


Arrow Out of Context

by SmoakingGreenArrow



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: ARGUS agents au, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Arrow out of Context, Bodyguard AU, Bonus Scenes, Drunk Felicity, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Police Officer Oliver Queen, baseball AU, olicity - Freeform, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-05-24 15:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 86,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14957309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoakingGreenArrow/pseuds/SmoakingGreenArrow
Summary: Collection of prompts using Arrow quotes.





	1. "Your Psycho Ex-Girlfriend"

_verdantvendetta asked: #10 "Yes. Or as I like to call her, your psycho ex-girlfriend." (from the Arrow Out of Context prompts on Tumblr!_ _)_

* * *

 

Her husband was dangerously close to the edge of reverting back into self-blaming mode. After Vince’s death, with Dinah on a one woman mission to kill James’ whole team, and a scared city under the thumb of a psychopath, he was feeling pretty hopeless.

“Oliver,” Felicity said, shaking his shoulders a little bit as she stood in front of him. “We can do this.”

He sighed, blowing out a breath and closing his eyes. “I really hope so.”

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck, nudging herself between his legs so she could hug him. He hugged her back instantly, but she kept her grip tight until he relaxed. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he let out a deep sigh.

She frowned, not liking how stressed out he was. He’d moved on from the days of believing that every scratch and bruise in the city was his fault. But he still had his moments. 

Especially after his talk with Dinah. 

Their friend was in a world of pain, and Felicity knew that with a heart as big as Oliver’s, he had to be taking some of that pain onto his shoulders, too. It was who he was. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured. “ _Dinah_ is going to be okay.”

“I know,” he mumbled back softly, his hand rubbing her back as he pressed his face into her neck. “I love you.”

Pulling back when his beard tickled her, she grinned, quirking her shoulder. “I know. I love you, too.”

Hey, uh, Felicity?”

They both turned to look at Alena from across the bunker, where she was on Felicity’s computer, trying to find more about the footage of Cayden’s son. Felicity frowned as she leaned past Oliver, who stiffened even more at the sound of Alena’s voice.

Rolling her eyes, Felicity led him over to her computers. “Who is The Huntress?” Alena asked, her brows furrowing as she pointed to the screen.

Felicity gasped as she saw the photos. The traffic cameras picked up Helena Bertinelli’s face. Nudging Alena aside, Felicity tapped on her keyboard until more pictures flooded the screen. “Cameras show her heading straight for Star City.”

Oliver’s jaw tightened, “Her cousin is dead, maybe she’s just coming for the funeral.”

Felicity gave him an incredulous look. “Pretending the sentence you just formed wasn’t as naive as ‘hey, maybe I should sleep with this woman,’” Felicity imitated his voice. “ _Maybe_ she’s coming to kill a ton of people to avenge her cousin’s death like she did for her fiance.”

Oliver sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples. “Why would she do that?”

“Why did Cayden have to kill Jerry Bertinelli? Why do insane people do anything?” Felicity countered, her eyes wide.

“She’s not…Helena is not insane. You’ve been keeping tabs on her, Felicity, but so have I. She’s gotten better since we last saw her. She broke out of prison months ago and hasn’t dropped a body since her father died.”

“Right, and if it had been anyone else, we wouldn’t have even given them the  _opportunity_.”

“But she didn’t.” He said lowly. Felicity let out a disbelieving breath.

Oliver sighed, “Adrian Chase was kidnapping my son, threatening everyone I love, and blowing up an island when Helena broke out of prison. I didn’t really have a day off to track her down.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing. A question, or maybe a lecture, was on the tip of her tongue, but before she could respond, Alena whistled. “Okay, so aside from  _complicated_ , who exactly is The Huntress?”

Oliver’s eyes shifted to the brunette, and Felicity gritted her teeth as annoyance crossed his face. “Her name is Helena Bertinelli.” He mumbled.

“Yes. Or as I like to call her, your psycho ex-girlfriend.” Felicity offered sarcastically. 

Her jealousy was adorable most of the time…endearing, but not when it was about The Huntress. Not when it was over a killer who had a reputation like this. Not when Helena had already tried to use Felicity, when she could have hurt her… He just wanted his wife as far away from Bertinelli as possible. Oliver sighed, “Honey, we don’t have time for this.”

Felicity shrugged, sitting down next to Alena. “Alena can keep working on the video, you and John can hit the streets for Cayden James’ men,” she cracked her knuckles, “and I’ll try to figure out what your psycho ex-girlfriend is doing back in town.”

Her husband winced, “Fine, just… please stop calling her that.”

“Why? You think the woman who cried over her father’s death… because she  _wasn’t_ the one who killed him… _isn’t_ crazy?”

Alena’s eyes widened, and Felicity met her gaze and rolled her eyes as if to say,  _I’ll tell you about it later._  

Oliver really didn’t like this.

When he huffed, Felicity shrugged, and Alena opened her mouth to say something. Oliver held up his hand, “It was a lot more complicated than that.”

Alena raised her hands in surrender, “No argument here. I was just going to say that if she came back here to get the rest of the Bertinelli inheritance, Star City Bank might be a good place to start?” She asked, looking at Felicity.

Felicity nodded, her fingers already flying across the keys. “The Bertinelli estate was just sold last week. Since psycho ex-girlfriends don’t have rights to family fortunes, Jerry’s daughter was the sole benefactor. She sold the property and made a significant amount of money.”

“Enough to draw your husband’s ex back into town?”

Oliver growled under his breath, now they were just trying to annoy him. Felicity shrugged, “Maybe she came back to take the money she thinks should be hers.”

Alena held her hand out, and Felicity slid her fingers across her palm. “Let’s go hunt a huntress.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed, clearly displeased.

“Do you have a problem with that, Oliver?” Felicity asked, glancing up from her screen as she typed, leveling him with a look. He’d only been married to her for a few weeks, but he knew  _that_ look. He’d be sleeping on the couch if he wasn’t careful with his words.

“I just think that I should stay here. We should be focusing on Cayden James.”

His wife raised an eyebrow, “Well I think…that if Helena is a threat to the fine people of Star City, as history proves, as well as one very uncomfortable night spent tied up on my office floor…then we should be multitasking, not ignoring her and letting her do whatever she wants because you used to sleep with her…honey.”

Oliver pinched his lips together. “Can I talk to you?”

Felicity sighed, giving him an apologetic look. “You can go, Oliver.” She said gently, “we’ll get a start on this.”

Oliver’s eyes drifted between the two women, his lips pursing. “I think John can handle it for tonight.”

Felicity shook her head, “What will you do here? Watch over our shoulders?” She frowned, “You know I hate it when you do that.”

He put his hands on his hips, glancing at Alena again. “I’ll just wait and see what you find…and then you and I can go home.”

She cocked her head to the side, “This will probably take a while.”

Oliver let out an exasperated breath, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He asked again. This time he reached for her hand before she could reply, and she let him pull her up from her chair and lead her into the back room.

“Why are you so against finding The Huntress?” Felicity demanded before he could speak.

Oliver closed the door behind him with a sigh, “I don’t like leaving you alone with her.” He whispered honestly.

“The Huntress? What?”

“Alena.”

Felicity dropped his hand and crossed her arms, “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m not going to go all ‘dark Felicity’ again just because I’m friends with Alena.”

“That’s not…you know that’s not what I mean.” He reached out to hold her waist, his eyes meeting hers. “I just don’t like the idea of you being alone with someone who worked so closely to Cayden…who we still know  _so_ little about, Felicity.”

“She’s one of the good ones, Oliver. She’s not going to convince me to drink the cult kool-aid if you leave her alone with me for a few hours.”

He stared at her, “What I mean is…” he said slowly, “what if she hurts you?”

Felicity laughed once, stepping closer to cup his face. “She wouldn’t.”

He clenched his jaw, his eyes hesitant as he looked at her. “I don’t trust her.” He mumbled.

Felicity raised an eyebrow, “So…you don’t trust the woman who’s been down here trying to help us stop Cayden James for  _weeks_ , but you trust the woman who tied me up, took your friends hostage, and who kills for a twisted vendetta?”

Oliver huffed, “I never said I trusted Helena.”

“Then why don’t you want to find her?”

He sighed, “I do. Just not if it means leaving you here alone.” When Felicity just raised an eyebrow, Oliver cocked his head to the side, “We’re talking about Alena right now.”

Felicity shrugged, “Right. Alena… who  _I_ trust. Do you see the irony here?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “ _You_ are the one who has bad judgement when it comes to beautiful women,” she said, poking a finger into his chest.

He cringed, both at the sharp jab of her finger and at her words.

“ _I_  tend to be a pretty good judge of character.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head to the side and smirking.

Oliver narrowed his eyes, “Don’t try to be cute with me. You’re not fighting fair.”

“I’m not?” She teased, biting her lip and stepping closer. He let out a noise of disagreement. “Look,” she continued, “either way, we can’t just let Helena waltz through town without knowing what she’s up to. Alena can help us, and she wants to. That’s good enough for me.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at her. “It’s not ‘good enough’ for me…not where your safety is concerned, Felicity.”

“And I love you for that, but you need to trust me.”

Oliver’s eyes flickered. She knew that bringing up his trust in her was always the button that could be pushed to make him do anything she asked. “I do trust you.”

“Then you’ll go help John find Cayden’s evil posse tonight, and I’ll call you if we hear anything about Helena or the video footage.”

Oliver closed his eyes, his fingers tightening on her back. “Could you just…could you please call me either way? So I know you’re okay?”

She nodded seriously, pulling his face down so she could rest her forehead against his. “You know, Dig taught me how to get out of zip ties now, so if The Huntress does show up again…”

Oliver winced, frowning at her, “You’re not funny.”

Felicity smiled, letting her nose brush against his. “I’m kinda funny.”

“Mm-mm,” He disagreed, brushing his lips against hers.

“I will call you.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“Hey guys,” Alena’s voice came from the doorway just as Felicity was about to kiss her husband. Turning to look at her, Oliver’s hands tightened on Felicity’s waist, holding on to her hips protectively. “Sorry to interrupt, but psycho ex-girlfriend is breaking into Star City Bank.”

The women both heard him growl again, assuming that he was irritated about having to bust a bank robbery. But he really just hated their amusement in reminding him that he’d dated Helena.


	2. "I've never been grounded!"

_foreverfelicityqueen  asked: number 2 if you haven't already._

_“Grounded? I’ve never been grounded!”_

_“Well, you never committed larceny before.”_

* * *

 

“William, no video games for a week. And…you’re staying home this weekend.”

“Dad, my friends already got tickets to the hockey game on Saturday.”

Oliver shook his head, “You’re…” he looked to Felicity for help, but she just met his wide eyes and shrugged. “Um, you’re grounded.”

“Grounded? I’ve never been grounded!”

“Well, you never committed larceny before.”

“Oliver…” Felicity breathed, giving him a look. “Woah, let’s not overreact here.”

He hesitated, and then took a deep breath, “William, please go to your room. We’ll talk more about this later.” His son stood up, looking defeated, and headed for his bedroom. “And buddy,” Oliver called after him, “no video games.”

William nodded sympathetically, and Oliver waited until his door was closed before he looked at his wife.

Felicity was pouting.

Full on, lower lip sticking out, puppy dog eyes  _pouting_. Oliver pointed a finger at her and shook his head “Don’t.”

“I would barely call taking some of my jewelry  _larceny_ , Oliver!” She hissed, leaning towards him.

Oliver sighed, leaning back into the couch and putting his hands over his face. “Are you telling me I’m being too hard on him?”

Felicity came over to the couch, curling up against his side and rubbing his shoulder. As he exhaled, he dropped his hands from his face, finding her fingers and lacing his through them. “I’m just saying,” Felicity said quietly, leaning over to rest her chin on his shoulder, “that your son has a  _crush_. And he wanted to impress her. He’s not a criminal, Oliver. He’s a sweet kid that wanted to give the girl he likes a bracelet.”

Oliver nodded slowly, “I just don’t want this to spiral. If you had seen the things that Thea and I did when we were teenagers…”

Felicity smiled, rubbing her thumb against his, “He’s  _twelve_. And he’s not like you and Thea were. I’m not saying that what he did was okay, and I agree with the grounding and everything…but his heart was in a good place, Oliver. Just like yours always is.”

Her husband glanced down at her, his eyes tired but his expression softened. Grounding his son seemed as draining as dealing with Cayden James, but it was clear that he was grateful to have her by his side.

Oliver turned his head towards her and kissed the tip of her nose. “I know. I just never want him to get into the things that I did…half of the time I was lashing out at my parents, and the other half I was just trying to get their attention.”

“I don’t think William sees you the way you saw your parents.” She said confidently.

“He doesn’t see  _either_ of us that way.” Oliver replied, squeezing her hand. “I know that. But if my mom had grounded me once in a while instead of paying off all of my stupid mistakes, maybe I wouldn’t have been such a brat.”

Felicity smirked, “You didn’t turn out so bad. And it’s not like we’ve ever had anything even  _close_ to this issue with William. You heard him, he’s never been grounded!” She teased, mimicking the shock in William’s voice.

Oliver chuckled, “We should go in there and make him apologize or something.”

Felicity grinned, “No need. He already did.”

“Of course he did,” Oliver breathed.

“He’s the best parts of you, Oliver. Not the worst. And he must really like this girl.” Felicity said, gauging Oliver’s reaction.

Her husband just shrugged, “I guess so…”

Felicity pursed her lips, “he asked me if she could come over and study with us.”

Oliver frowned, “are they allowed to have friends  _here_ if they’re grounded?”

She laughed, kissing his cheek, “I don’t think so? But he does have a test this week, and he needs to study, so maybe we could make an exception.”

Felicity watched as he closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath, “This parenting stuff is kind of hard.”

She nodded, kissing his face some more, “But you’re doing such an amazing job at it.” She whispered in his ear.

“So are you.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, taking his earlobe between her lips and getting the desired response. He shivered, and she smiled.

Oliver turned his head to look at her and raise an eyebrow. Felicity bit her lip, “We have one more…tiny… _little_ thing that we should talk about before we go finish this conversation with William.”

Oliver glanced down at her mouth, “I really like this…you and me…figuring out this parenting thing. Together.”

She grinned at him, pure happiness written all over her face. “Me too. We’ve always made a good team…even if I didn’t exactly imagine us trying to raise a twelve year old.”

“I didn’t either…I don’t regret any of it though,” he mumbled, meeting her gaze.

Felicity groaned when she noticed the look in his eyes. “Neither do I.” She inhaled sharply and pulled back when he leaned forward to kiss her. “That’s not what I need to talk about, though.”

Oliver froze, his eyebrows furrowing, “What is it?”

“Roy was the one who put the idea of stealing in his head.” Oliver raised an eyebrow and she continued, “Not on purpose! He suggested that William get the girl he likes a present so that she would notice him. But he meant winning her a stuffed animal from a claw machine or something. William just, um,  _misinterpreted_.”

Oliver stared at her for a moment, “how did William…misinterpret that?”

“Because it’s  _Roy_.” She said simply, raising her eyebrows.

Oliver sighed, shaking his head. He let his head fall to the back of the couch, closing his eyes. Then he pulled Felicity under his arm.

She settled into him, laughing as she put her head on his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we be talking to William?” She asked quietly.

He tightened his arm around her, dropping his other hand to her knee and squeezing it as if he was worried she’d try to get up. “In a minute please,” he sighed.

Felicity smiled. It was incredible how the simple act of holding her could relax him. Sometimes it seemed like he just needed to touch her so that he could feel anchored and calm. And there was no better feeling than being that person for him.“Okay,” She said gently, rubbing her hand across his chest, “But what are we going to tell Roy?”

Oliver huffed, kissing the top of her head. “Roy’s grounded too.”


	3. "I guess from now on I'll be watching you pee." Bodyguard Part 1

_anonymous   asked: Please do 1 and 7!!!!!_

_“I guess from now on I’ll be watching you pee.”_

_Bodyguard AU_

* * *

 

Oliver couldn’t deny that the tiny blonde girl was gorgeous, but he was surprised to see her. After slipping past six of his mother’s assigned body guards, they’d only gotten bigger and meaner looking with each new one.

Clearly the company that worked for his family was well-informed about his talent for escaping the detail.

As the son of the mayor, he’d grown up with the protection. So he’d become an expert at avoiding them; choosing the right moment to sneak out, knowing when it would work and when it wouldn’t. Since the most recent bodyguard had looked like he smashed heads and ate them for breakfast in between his body building competitions, the last thing he expected was the little blonde to be waiting in his kitchen that morning.

He hadn’t been able to stop glancing at her all day. 

Felicity. 

Even her name was sexy.

On a good day, he would have ditched her by now. On a bad day, he’d still be gone by lunch. But sitting in Big Belly Burger with his best friend Tommy, he had very little desire to go anywhere else. Felicity was reading a newspaper on the other side of the restaurant and drinking coffee. He could see her smiling down at the cartoon section…and it was all the entertainment he needed.

Oliver could tell that she was new. She had a nervous edge about her, and he’d almost asked her if his mother had requested her personally. But he didn’t want to shake her confidence even more. He was almost positive that this was Moira’s smartest plan yet. Instead of hiring a scarier looking giant than the last, she probably asked for this girl, assuming that Oliver wouldn’t mind being near her. This gorgeous girl…knowing that he wouldn’t want to bail on her company.

It was smart. As impressed as he was by his mother’s conniving plans, he was also irritated by it. He didn’t want to get the girl in trouble at her new job, and he knew that John Diggle always gave the newbies a hard time when Oliver escaped their surveillance.

Despite the fact that he’d done it to the majority of his staff by the time he was sixteen, Dig liked to use it as some kind of hazing initiation. He frowned down at his burger, not knowing if it would upset the girl to be teased by her coworkers.

Oliver glanced up at the door again, where she was sitting, her body angled at the door but her eyes on him as she sipped her coffee. “Dude,” Tommy said, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “I get it. Your bodyguard is a smoke show. Stop staring.”

Oliver pursed his lips, leaning towards his best friend, “you don’t think it’s weird that  _she_ is a bodyguard?”

Tommy turned around to study her, not a hint of remorse on his face when her eyes met his and she blinked, clearly uncomfortable under his scrutiny. She lifted her eyebrow at his best friend, and Tommy gave her a flirtatious smirk.

Oliver didn’t like the surge of jealousy that ran through him, nor was he familiar with it. He kicked his friend under the table, “Okay, enough.”

“You’re right.” Was Tommy’s only response, along with a shrug.

Oliver’s eyes met Felicity’s now, and she smiled at him. Oliver groaned, “I haven’t felt guilty about ditching a bodyguard since Dig had to fire Slade Wilson.”

Tommy chuckled as he took a bite of his burger, “Wilson couldn’t find us for an entire  _weekend_.”

“We got on a plane and went to Florida.”

Tommy was still smiling like a devil, “I know, that was an awesome weekend. It wasn’t our fault Mr. Wilson couldn’t keep up.”

Oliver sighed, glancing at the girl again. He knew that Diggle wouldn’t  _fire_ her for losing track of him. It was mostly expected at this point, a right of passage… plus he didn’t have any plans to leave the state while under her supervision.

He glanced at her again, and she gave him another smile. This one was timid, and he swore he saw her blushing when she noticed how intently he watched her. But he couldn’t help it.

Oliver couldn’t control the smile that pulled at his lips in return. Damn, she was gorgeous. Most of his bodyguards didn’t have blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, and an ass like that… let alone painted red lips and one of the cutest smiles he’d ever seen.

Her  _smile_? He needed to get a grip. Lips were one thing. A girl’s ass was a given, but he had never given a damn about a woman’s smile.

Tommy’s laughter broke through his thoughts as Felicity glanced down at her coffee, her tongue coming out between her red lips. Oliver’s eyes reluctantly flickered to his friend, his face dropping and a flush rushing up his neck. “What?” He snapped.

“She’s playing you.”

Oliver cocked his head to the side, “How so?”

“Dig’s team knows how you work, Ollie.” Tommy said, shaking his head as he continued to eat. “You’re used to the meat heads who puff up their chests to try to intimidate you. But there are other ways to make sure a guy like you behaves.”

Glancing at Felicity again while she read the paper, Oliver pointed a finger at her, leaning towards his friend, “you think that woman is flirting with me so that I won’t run off?”

“I think your handler is being resourceful.” Tommy said with a wicked grin.

Oliver sighed, realizing that Tommy was probably right. If his mom had hired Felicity with the same idea, maybe she was on board with it. But damn, was that disappointing. He’d really been hoping that she was interested. “See you tonight.” He said to his friend, getting up from the table.

He could hear Tommy’s laughter as he headed for the bathroom. 

Once in the men’s room, he knew exactly how to push on the rusty window to get it to open. He’d escaped through the bathroom of Big Belly Burger plenty of times.

As soon as his feet were on the pavement, he smiled to himself, taking in a breath of fresh air.

Easy as pie.

He knew he couldn’t take the car since Felicity was right in front of the window, so he opted for scaling the fence from the back alley and catching a cab.

He’d be home in less than fifteen minutes, and then Tommy and Felicity would probably storm in a few minutes later. He’d only met her a few hours ago, and he hadn’t seen anything more than anxious smiles on her face, but he could picture her mad…and it was pretty hot. In his head at least.

As Oliver dropped to the pavement, he was startled by someone clearing their throat right beside him. His eyes darted to the left, seeing Felicity leaning against the brick wall. She raised her eyebrows, unsurprised and unimpressed.

“I guess from now on I’ll be watching you pee.” She said, pushing off of the wall. Oliver quirked an eyebrow, and she cringed. “Never mind,” she recovered quickly. “Are you ready to head home, Mr. Queen?” She asked sweetly.

Oliver smiled at her, “Impressive, Smoak.”

“I don’t think you’re as clever as  _you_ think you are.” She countered, smirking back at him with all of the flirtation that he swore he’d been feeling earlier. 

She was definitely flirting with him.

Oliver stepped away, walking backwards out of the alley and lifting his eyebrows at her, “I’ll see you at home, Felicity.”

She shook her head slowly, following after him. She watched him hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure if he’d start running or not.

He could see the moment she got an idea in her head. Felicity licked her lips, drawing his eyes to it as if she’d done it on purpose. And he was too focused on her mouth to notice when she kicked her foot out, catching his ankles before he even knew what was happening.

Just as quickly, he was laying on his back, looking up at her face as she landed on top of him.

Oliver let out a breath of surprise. She’d somehow pinned him to the ground without him feeling a thing. But now that the cool concrete was beneath his back, he blinked up at her. Felicity smiled, “Don’t underestimate me, Mr. Queen.”

“Oliver,” he sighed, disbelief in his voice. Not only had she gracefully pulled that move, but she’d totally turned him on in the process. Of course she did, her body was still pressed against his.

“Are you ready to head home,  _Oliver_?” She asked again, cocking her head to the side.

She still wasn’t getting off of him, and her confidence was sexy as hell. He nodded, not taking his eyes off of her. “Yeah, as long as you teach me how to do that.”

He’d had handlers his whole life and had never cared to learning how to fight. Dig had showed him the basics of self-defense on a couple of rainy afternoons when he was a teenager, but that was out of boredom, not interest. 

But the idea of Felicity doing that to him again, and of her showing him other moves like it, was extremely appealing.

She smirked before getting up and pulling him with her. 


	4. "Thank you...for the entertainment" ARGUS Part 1

_1-crazy-dreamer asked: Hi there! I choose quote #7. It's so funny and suggestive at the same time that one lol_

_“Seriously? I’ve been working on this for two hours!”_

_“I know, I was watching you. Thank you…for the entertainment.”_

_A.R.G.U.S Agents AU_

* * *

 

Being an A.R.G.U.S agent was everything Felicity Smoak had hoped it would be. It made her feel powerful.  _Important_. Like she had a purpose. But more than anything else, she felt like she was finally doing something good for the world.

Unfortunately, even the technologically skilled recruits had to go through the weeks of training. She liked feeling like she could protect herself, especially in this line of work, but what she really didn’t like was the commanding lieutenant who put them through the sessions.

Oliver Queen had been hard on her ever since she was assigned to his unit. And it was still the first week. Felicity stayed after every night to get a workout in or practice whatever skill they’d learned that day. She wasn’t trying to impress  _him_ , per se… but it had the opposite effect. He’d snapped at her to go home when he found her in the gym after the first day.

Director Michaels told her that it was completely acceptable to use the gyms after hours, so she had no idea why Oliver took such an issue with it. She’d tried defending herself the next night, when he told her to go home again. But now she seemed to be his least favorite student.

On the third day, they’d learned hand to hand combat. The morning started with knives, learning how to defend themselves against them as well as how to disarm someone coming at them with one. In the afternoon, the training was about being resourceful, which apparently meant turning anything you could get your hands on into a weapon.

Oliver had lectured them about how anything can be a weapon, and they’d gone over various scenarios where they might have to use their surroundings in a fight, but the most important thing was that they knew how to use their own bodies.

That night, she’d been working on her punches, pounding her fists into one of the dummies when Oliver had come in, his face twisting in annoyance at the sight of her. “Plant your feet, agent Smoak.” He’s snapped. “Keep your wrist straight. Hit with a purpose, or you’ll break your hand.”

She followed his instructions, clenching her jaw to keep from snapping back at him. 

She’d always been more responsive to nurturing encouragement, but Oliver also wasn’t the only ranking lieutenant at A.R.G.U.S. who believed in tough love. She knew what she’d signed up for, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something  _personal_ about her that he didn’t like. 

She’d been surprised when he approached her, holding his fists up and raising an eyebrow.

It also didn’t help that he was hot at hell. His eyes were a deep blue, always analyzing like the trained soldier that he was, but they had a softness in them that she found baffling. The way he spoke was far from soft. If he wasn’t yelling at them, he was talking in a low, irritated tone, as if he was constantly on the  _verge_ of yelling at them.

When Felicity paused, unsure if he actually wanted her to punch him, Oliver had raised an eyebrow at her, “What did I say about hesitating, agent Smoak?” He’d grumbled.

“You said that hesitation gets you killed,” Felicity breathed, throwing her fist at him as quickly as she could.. He ducked, but she landed a fist into his gut.

They’d sparred for hours, and eventually he had begun to look like he was enjoying himself. His tone had become lighter as he advised her, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d actually been impressed.

Finally, she’d knocked him to the ground, climbing on top of him and smirking down with arrogance. She had his arms pinned beneath her knees, and she knew she had him. “I won’t tell the others that I beat you.” She’d whispered playfully, not sure what had come over her.

Even more surprising was the way he had smiled back at her. “That would imply that you’re not  _exactly_ where I want you to be.” He’d mumbled, his eyes sparking with… _something._

Her face fell, her jaw hanging open, and she’d realized that he wasn’t struggling to get out from under her in the slightest. As soon as she’d kicked his legs out from under him, he’d given up, letting her pin him down. 

She still wasn’t sure what was more shocking; that he had let her get the upper hand, or that he had just flirted with her.

Shaking her head to clear it, Felicity raises the bow and arrow they’d been working with that day. To say she had struggled with it would be an understatement. 

She wanted to blame it on Oliver. 

After what he’d done last night, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She’d scrambled off of him and gone back to her room, and today he’d acted like it didn’t happen. He hadn’t been any nicer, or meaner. It was like he forgot the moment even happened, and he went right back to treating her like his least favorite agent.

By the end of the day, she was partially convinced that she’d imagined that look in his eyes. Even if it’d been burning in her head all last night and all day today.

Firing her arrow at the target, she frowns when it lands in the wall a few feet away. “Breathe, agent Smoak.”

Felicity spins around to see Oliver walking towards her, his green pants and gray t-shirt hugging him in all the right places. He doesn’t stop until he’s next to her. Like,  _right_ next to her. His shoulder brushes against hers. And then his touch becomes more intentional when he slides his fingers down her arm, taking the bow from her hand.

He takes out an arrow from the quiver on her back.

Without a word, he sets the arrow in place, pulls the string back, and looks at the target for a split second before he lets it go. The arrow buries itself in the middle of the target, and Felicity sighs. 

She’d been watching him do that all day. “Show off,” she mutters.

She sees him raise an eyebrow, and her eyes widen. “I’m sorry,” she cringes, wondering if she’d be running laps for that tomorrow morning. Felicity scratches her head, “I just…really can’t get the hang of this.”

“Because you’re not focused.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, “that’s been kind of hard today.”

Oliver lifts his chin, staring down at her like he knows exactly why she’s been distracted all day. 

Her eyes glance down to his chest and over his arms. He’s much more distracting now that she’s had that one on one  _training_ with him…and she knows what his body feels like underneath her.

His eyes darken, and she’s perfectly certain that he knows what she’s thinking about. She swallows, stepping back from him when she realizes how close he still is. “Felicity…” he breathes.

Her eyes dart up to his.

_Fel-i-ci-ty._

She’d never heard him say her name like that. Actually, she’s pretty sure he’d never called her by her first name at all. His tongue slips out to wet his lips, and his pupils are blown wide.  _Holy frack._

Oliver clears his throat, shaking his head slightly as he puts more space between them. “I trained under a very skilled archer by the name of Yao Fei.” he offers.

Felicity stares at him for a long moment. “He was an agent for A.R.G.U.S.?”

“No,” Oliver says quietly, shaking his head. “He was my friend.”

She hesitates, staring into his eyes while he just watches her, waiting for her questions. “Why are you telling me this?” She asks gently.

Oliver just shrugs. She’d known that he’s a very silent person, which was partly why she thought he hated her so much. She tends to babble. 

He gestures to the pile of tennis balls behind her.

Felicity watches him for a moment, not sure if he is serious. He’d brought the moving targets out, but none of them had mastered the bow enough to use them before the day was over.

He raises his eyebrows at her, his expression challenging. And she lets out a breathy laugh, picking up a tennis ball.

Thinking that he’d need a moment to position the bow, Felicity tosses the ball into the air without giving it to him. And she catches the glimpse of a smile on his lips, amused by her tactic as he lifts the bow and fires the arrow with impressive speed.

The ball flies across the room, sticking between his arrow and the wall. She exhales in surprise, blinking as if she wasn’t sure she’d even caught all of that. “Seriously? I’ve been working on this for two hours!”

“I know. I was watching you. Thank you… for the entertainment.” He says lowly, circling her and mumbling the words into her ear. 

Felicity shivers as he puts the bow back in her hand, purposefully letting his fingers glide over hers. He pulls another arrow from her back. “Shoulders straight.” He whispers.

Before she knows what he’s doing, he sticks his foot between hers, kicking her feet apart. He guides her arms up to her face, his hand on her elbow as she draws back the bow.

With the arrow in place, Oliver puts his lips just outside her ear. “Take a breath, clear your mind. Just feel the string in your fingers. It’s all about control, agent Smoak. It’s about knowing yourself…your body.” She feels his hand on her hip, and she surprises both of them when she leans into him, pressing her back into his chest. He freezes for a moment before continuing. “You want to be focused, but you can’t be nervous. It takes every instinct you have, yet it’s effortless.

Felicity turns her head slightly, lifting her chin to the same angle that her arrow is pointed, but it also causes her cheek to brush against his lips. She can feel his breath catch in his throat, and his fingers tighten on her waist. 

“You have to open your eyes, Felicity.” He whispers against the warm skin of her cheek.

Her eyes fly open, and her heart stutters, but it regains itself quickly. Oliver’s hand travels up her back, pulling her hair over her shoulder.

She takes one more, final deep breath before she releases her arrow, watching as it lands in the center of the target.

With a surprised gasp, she turns to look at Oliver. And he’s smiling. He looks at her with pride written all over his face, and it’s an addictive new expression. “Thank you,” she whispers.

He nods, his eyes dropping to her lips. “You’re welcome.”


	5. "And here I thought you didn't care much about me" College Students Part 1

_verdantvendetta:_ _For your prompts (if you’ll let me request another awesome piece from you), do your lucky number. And if your lucky number isn’t between 1-21 or has already been done, do however many letters are in your middle name. Pretty please_

_“And here I thought you didn’t care much about me.”_

_“Still don’t.”_

_College AU_

* * *

 

Her hair was in its usual ponytail. She was twirling one finger through it, just as she did every day, with her other hand holding a red pen to her mouth as she chewed on it absently.

All of her attention was on the professor, her eyes trained on him as he told the class all about the ins and outs of a healthy sex life. 

As Professor Diggle explained that everyone has desires, but we’re taught that there are certain standards to be proud of and others to ashamed of, Oliver watches as Felicity leans forward. “The problem,” Professor Diggle said, “is that you’ve grown up in a world that tells you what you’re supposed to find attractive. So you do. Breasts. Muscles. They show you with every beer advertisement and movie what you’re supposed to focus on, and because of that, you never really think to look much deeper.”

Oliver let Diggle’s words settle over him. He’d definitely spent his fair share of time noticing Felicity’s…assets…that was for sure. And if you’d asked him what he thought was the sexiest part of the female body, he would have to admit that he had a predictable answer.

He wasn’t a twelve year old looking at playboy magazines anymore, though. He noticed other things, too. Especially when it came to Felicity Smoak. Actually, he noticed  _everything_ when it came to that woman. And he appreciated everything he saw.

He wasn’t a complete tool.

“Mr. Queen.”

Oliver’s eyes snapped to the front of the lecture auditorium, but he could see Felicity turning to look up at him out of the corner of his eye. 

Of course, she was seated in one of the front rows. When he’d come into class, he’d almost had the courage to sit near her, just wanting to be somewhere in her orbit, but he’d opted for a few rows back at the last minute.

Professor Diggle had a mischievous look in his eyes. “Can you tell me one thing about Ms. Smoak that you find beautiful?” 

Oliver’s face dropped, but Diggle put his hand up to stop Oliver from making a sound, “One  _unconventional_ thing.”

“Professor Diggle-”

“Just look at her,” his professor interrupted, “actually  _look_ at the girl in front of you. What do you notice? What stands out?” As Oliver stared at his professor with his mouth hanging open, Diggle smirked. 

Realizing that Diggle was doing this because he’d caught Oliver staring at her only made the heat on his cheeks deepen. His heart was beating so fast that he could hear it in his ears, which stopped him from realizing that a solid ten seconds had gone by without anyone saying a word.

Finally, the class started to chuckle. “He’s more into brunettes.” He heard Isabel Rochev’s voice chime in from the back of the room.

Oliver glanced down the rows to Felicity, seeing her face flushed almost as red as his. She was embarrassed, and he wanted to kick himself. 

It wasn’t a hard question. He was failing most of his classes, but if he’d been given a twenty page test about what made Felicity Smoak beautiful, he knew he’d be able to ace it.

When his eyes met hers, she glared. “You can’t even think of one answer that isn’t  _ass_ or  _boobs_?” She hissed at him through her teeth, spinning back around in her seat, her ponytail swinging over her shoulder.

“She has a freckle.” He blurted quickly.

The room quieted, everyone turning to look at him, and Oliver could see Felicity’s back stiffen. 

He was really regretting signing up for an elective course titled  _Human Sexuality: Creating Meaningful Relationships_ but he’d be lying if he hadn’t seen it as an opportunity when Tommy told him that Felicity was going to be in it.

“She has this freckle,” Oliver said with a deep breath as Felicity slowly turned back to look at him. He kept his eyes on her, “right on the inside of her wrist,” he finished quietly, pointing to the spot on his own body.

He saw the hint of a smile play across her face, another blush rising on her neck, but this one looked more flattered than mortified. He exhaled in relief. Okay, at least he hadn’t embarrassed her even more.

“Great answer,” Diggle praised, “okay, Ms. Smoak?”

“What?” she asked, spinning back to Diggle.

The professor sat down on the table at the front of the auditorium, holding up a hand to gesture at Oliver. “I made him squirm, it’s only fair.”

Felicity sighed, her shoulders dropping. Oliver grinned, leaning back in his chair and staring at the back of her head. 

Diggle didn’t tell her that she had to turn around and look at him when she said it, but she did anyway… just like he’d been looking at her. He tried not to read too much into that. “He gets this dimple,” she grumbled, touching her index finger to her cheek, “when he laughs.”

Diggle nodded, “Nice. Now, as uncomfortable as that might have been, why do you think I did it?”

“Because you live to torture?” Felicity muttered under her breath.

Professor Diggle laughed, “I hear that every semester, but no. Ms. Smoak, may I put you on the spot one more time?”

Felicity put her hands up, “Sure, why not?” She hesitated, “Why did you make us do that?” She asked in confirmation. He nodded, gesturing for her to give an answer. She sighed, “I don’t know, because it’s a lot more uncomfortable for people to compliment the obscure things than it is to say the common ones?”

“Exactly!” He said, pointing his finger at her. “Mr. Queen,” Diggle said, turning back to him, “can I ask you one more question?”

“Uh… with all due respect, I think I’ve been embarrassed enough for today, Mr. Diggle.”

His professor just shrugged, “Why was it embarrassing for you to tell Felicity you think the freckle on her wrist is attractive?”

“I-” Oliver stuttered, “I guess…for the reason you just said…” He trailed off, knowing that it was only partially true. It also had a  _little_ something to do with the massive crush he’d had on her for the past year. 

Diggle just nodded, “I want you guys to take one of these journals on your way out. Go home this weekend and make a list of features like the ones Oliver and Felicity gave today. They can be details about strangers on the street, things about your friends, your exes,  _yourself_. Just make a list. You don’t need to put names, just the feature. They don’t have to be physical features, either. Someone’s laugh, a personality trait,  _anything_ that interests you. I’ll collect them on Monday as your first assignment. Have a good weekend, everyone.”

Oliver took his time packing his bag, making sure Felicity was on her way out before he stood up.

His best friend Tommy, who’d been sitting in the row behind him, shoved his shoulder as he caught up. “Dude,” he said, “Looks like Felicity Smoak remembers you exist again.”

“It’s not going to happen, Tommy.”

“Oh, come on Ollie. You asked her out  _once_ last year. Did you ever even tell her why you stood her up?”

“Did I tell her that my sister ran her car into a tree because she was high on Vertigo? No, seemed like it might have sucked the fun out of dating me. I had too much to deal with, anyway.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes at him, “I think she would have understood.”

“I know she would have. But maybe it was a sign that I shouldn’t be going after a girl like her. She’s way out of my league anyway.”

His best friend laughed, “A sign? Out of your league? Ollie, who are you? Thea’s better now. Doesn’t seem like you have all that much to deal with anymore.”

Oliver shoved him, “Whatever, let’s just get back to the apartment.” He wasn’t about to tell his friend, but he was excited to start his homework, knowing that he could probably fill more than a few pages of the journal Diggle passed out with things he liked about Felicity.

“You know, since I know that you haven’t stopped thinking about her, and since I’m not an idiot and I know exactly why you made us sign up for that goddamn Human Sexuality class, let me just remind you of something that I think you always overlook in all of your over analyzing.”

“What’s that?”

“She said  _yes_ , Ollie. Felicity  _wanted_ to go out with you last year.”

He sighed, opening his mouth to respond, to argue, as they walked through the path towards the parking lot. But Felicity was pacing in front of one of the wooden benches. She glanced up as they approached, and he felt his heart begin to race as he realized that she was waiting for him.

Felicity gave him a small smile, “I just wanted to say thanks,” she said, squinting up at him. Her hair was extra golden in the setting sun and her skin looked perfectly sun kissed. And now Diggle had him romanticizing everything about her.

He bit his lip, thinking that he’d probably been doing that all on his own for a long time now.

“I mean,” she said, “I know Professor Diggle kind of made you do it,” she scratched her eyebrow with her fingers, and he knew she was nervous. She hadn’t been nervous around him in months. Her angry glares had taken the place of the adorable babbling he’d fallen for in the first place. “But, you could have said a lot worse things. So, thank you.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and her eyes widened as he didn’t respond. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he noticed the way she was twisting her fingers together, and he caught a glimpse of that freckle.

Felicity cleared her throat when he spent way too long looking at it, and his eyes darted up to hers. He really needed to chill out before he made himself look like an even bigger idiot than he already had today. He’d been crushed after their failed date, but she had made it easier by hating him. She hadn’t even asked for an explanation. So he’d been able to blow it off. But she was definitely going to see how much he liked her if he wasn’t careful.

“And here I thought you didn’t care much about me.” He said, trying to force a flirtatious smile, to make his voice seem unaffected.

She cocked her head to the side, watching him for a moment, and then she rolled her eyes. “Still don’t.”

He wasn’t even sure why he was so afraid of her knowing what he thought of her. But he knew that the idea of letting her in on it, of giving her the chance to see him for who he really was…terrified him. “What you said was…nice, too…” he smiled, and for the first time in a while, it was genuine.

She nodded, “Okay.” And she smiled at him again, which was two more smiles than he’d gotten from her ever since that disastrous night. “Well, good luck with your assignment this weekend. I’ll uh… I’ll see you on Monday I guess.”

He swallowed, nodding as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Tommy,” she waved to his friend as she walked by, heading for her car. Oliver stared at her as she left, adding the way she walked to his list.

“Oh my god, you’re seriously  _useless_.” Tommy complained before shoving him, hard, on the back.

Oliver stumbled forward, his senses coming back to him. “Felicity!” He called after her. She spun around, raising her eyebrows and taking a step back towards him. He jogged to catch up to her, “I was just wondering, if… I know I really ruined things last time, but I was hoping-I mean, I can explain- for what it’s worth…”

“Usually I’m the one talking in sentence fragments.”

He took a deep breath, “Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

“Yes.”


	6. "There was probably a better time to tell you that"

_anonymous   asked: How about 13 and 15 for the out of context prompts? Thanks!!_

_“There was probably a better time to tell you that.”_

_“Probably not.”_

* * *

 

William raised his eyebrows at Felicity as she stuck her head around the corner, looking into the kitchen. He pointed a finger at her, “No. Out.”

She frowned, glancing at Oliver. Her husband just shook his head, “You heard him.”

“You guys are being really unfair.” She complained.

“Felicity, you burned the chicken.” Oliver said. He was no help. 

“I got another one.” She grumbled.

“Yes. That we now have to rush to have ready on time for Aunt Thea and Roy.”

Felicity frowned some more, doing her best to make her husband feel bad. “I was just trying to help.” She said sweetly.

Oliver gave her a look, “You tried, honey. Now let us do it.”

“Then why does Lydia get to stay in the kitchen?”

“Because she’s two,” Oliver said, smirking as he glanced at his wife still hovering in the doorway, “and I’m not letting her anywhere near the stove. A rule that now applies to both of you.”

“Hey,” Felicity said, crossing her arms, her brows furrowing. Oliver chuckled, putting his knife on the counter and abandoning the vegetables to cross the room. He leaned into her, kissing her pouting lips. “Well what am I supposed to do?” She asked.

He smiled down at her, kissing her one more time because he loved the way her mouth looked. “Just relax.”

With a groan, Felicity wrapped her arms around him. “Fine,” she relented, “but I’m taking the kid with me.” 

Felicity took a step into the kitchen so she could get her daughter, but William stepped in front of her, “Eh!” he warned, pointing to the masking tape he’d put on the floor and written on it in sharpie, “No Felicities past this point.”

She grumbled under her breath, backing up over the tape again while Oliver laughed, finding it much too amusing for her liking. He turned to scoop Lydia up and place her in Felicity’s arms. And then he kissed Lydia’s forehead and Felicity’s before waving his hand towards the living room. She rolled her eyes again, “Yeah yeah, we’re going.”

She left the kitchen, mumbling to her daughter as she headed for the couch. “It wasn’t my fault that the timer never went off.” She told Lydia. When the two year old gave her a disbelieving look as if she knew what Felicity was talking about and she knew it was a lie. Felicity snorted, “Okay, forgetting to set it was  _probably_ my fault. But it was an accident. You forgive me, don’t you?”

Lydia nodded enthusiastically, “My forgive you, mommy.”

Sitting on the floor with her daughter, Felicity waited while Lydia roamed through her toys. She seemed to be on a mission for something, and Felicity knew that she was looking for her favorite book. 

Once found, Lydia climbed onto her lap, and Felicity read it four times before the doorbell finally rang.

Her daughter’s head spun around to look at her, and Felicity smiled raising her eyebrows and giving her a wide eyed, excited expression. Lydia mimicked it, “Roy!” she screamed, scrambling off of Felicity’s legs and charging for the door.

Felicity laughed as she followed behind.

Thea was opening the door and Lydia did not bother slowing down at all as she gracefully dodged her aunt and flung herself into Roy’s arms. Thea sighed, looking at Felicity with her hand still on the door. “That still hurts my feelings.”

Felicity lifted her shoulders, “I can’t control it. He’s her first crush.”

“And we all know how Ollie feels about that,” Thea chuckled as Lydia finally gave Thea some attention, leaning out of Roy’s grip to wrap her little arms around her aunt’s neck. “I’m the one who’s related to you!” She joked, tickling the toddler’s sides as she hugged her back.

The giggles that came out of Lydia would never get old, and Felicity smiled as she watched her daughter laugh. Oh, she loved that sound.

Roy closed the door behind them, handing Lydia over to Thea. He gave Felicity a hug. “Hey,” he greeted her, “I heard you almost ruined dinner.”

Felicity groaned, “Oliver!”

“It was too funny not to text them, honey!” He yelled from the kitchen.

She rolled her eyes, “I’m exiled, but William and Oliver are cooking if you want to go say hi.”

After dinner was successfully saved and enjoyed, everyone sat around the table. Lydia begged to sit on Roy’s lap the moment she was done eating, and he and Oliver told William some of their stories about when Roy was on the team. William had heard most of them before, but he loved listening as much as Roy and Oliver loved reminiscing. It was so strange to her, the way they talked about those memories. The way they remembered them. It was like all of the pain and stress they’d experienced together was irrelevant, and all that remained was the pride. The friendship. 

Felicity and Thea still didn’t hesitate to interrupt when they tried to exaggerate their heroic wins, though.

Thea smiled, watching as Lydia stood on Roy’s thigh, moving her fingers through his hair feverishly and ruining the perfectly styled locks. “You know, I remember John and Lyla saying years ago…how everything about what we do changed when they had a baby. Did you guys feel that way, too?”

Felicity shrugged, “Yeah.” Oliver nodded in agreement. “As soon as we had William to take care of, the things we had to think about shifted. It wasn’t just about us anymore.” She said, looking at her son. “And then when Lydia came along, everything changed again. We were just getting the hang of being parents to a young boy,” she said, winking at him. “but a baby was a lot more difficult to work with than this kid. It was late night feedings and constant attention. We had to learn how to do both, and it wasn’t exactly easy to get used to that change.”

Her husband smiled at her, leaning over to brush his daughter’s hair out of her face. “I think we handled it pretty well.”

“She’s a happy girl.” Thea sighed, staring down at her niece with all of the love that Felicity could hope for Lydia to get in her life.

“Thea’s pregnant.” Roy blurted.

Everyone’s heads turned to look at Thea, even Lydia’s hands froze in his hair, probably sensing the tension in the room more than she understood what it meant. Thea just leveled Roy with a look that was mildly annoyed and extremely unsurprised. “I knew you would end up doing that,” was the first thing she said.

“Aunt Thea…” William trailed off, glancing between her and Roy. “You are?”

She nodded, finally looking at her brother, who sat in his chair with his mouth hanging open. She raised an eyebrow at him, keeping her eyes focused on his face as she leaned towards Felicity, “I can’t tell if he’s going to yell, cry, or laugh.” She whispered.

Felicity analyzed Oliver for a moment, “He’s happy. Just give him a minute.” And then she pulled Thea into a hug. “ _I’m_  happy! That’s amazing Thea! How did you…I mean, when…”

“I’m about ten weeks.”

“Wow,” Felicity sighed, pulling in to hug her again.

“Thea…” Oliver finally broke out of his shock, shaking his head. “That’s…incredible. How do you feel?”

“I’m good.” She said, nodding. “We wanted to tell you guys tonight.”

Oliver smiled, reaching out to hold his sister’s hand. “I’m so happy for you. For both of you.” He said, nodding to Roy.

“There was probably a better time to tell you that.” Roy cringed.

“Probably not.” Oliver said with a grin.

Later, since Felicity had failed the chicken, William stuck her on dish duty, and she gladly agreed. Roy helped to dry them while she washed, and Lydia danced in and out of their legs where they stood side by side at the sink. “So,” she said, bumping her shoulder against his. “You were kind of quiet in there. The thought of being a daddy a little overwhelming?”

“It’s…exciting…” he said, glancing at her, “and terrifying.”

Felicity smirked at him. She knew the feeling, she and Oliver had both had their fair share of nervous freak outs after they found out they were having Lydia. “Do you see the crazy child attached to your leg?” She asked. “I think that should tell you enough about how great you’ll be at this.”

Roy sighed, “I just never… _never_ imagined myself as a father. I don’t know how great I’ll be at it,” he admitted, setting a plate on the counter. “I can’t picture myself being as amazing of a dad as Oliver is.”

Felicity paused, looking up from the forks she was washing to see Roy’s face. She could tell how serious he was. And her heart just  _melted_. “Oh…Roy…” she mumbled, feeling her eyes fill with water.

He pointed a finger at her, “Don’t you dare. Felicity, pull those tears back in right now, I swear to god. I take it back. He’s an awful dad. He sucks. Why’d you ever marry him?”

She laughed even though the tears fell anyway. 

“Daddy!” Lydia screamed, sending Felicity jumping into the air, the forks she still had in her hand going flying. Roy caught them out of the air easily, giving her an irritated look. 

“Daddy!” Lydia yelled again, and they both looked down at her. Her voice was high with panic, making them both hesitate before she screamed, “Roy make mommy cry!”

“Oh, Lydia, no sweetheart,” she said, leaning down to her as she wiped her face.

Oliver came running into the kitchen, skidding to a stop in the doorway. His eyes narrowed as he focused on Felicity, seeing her red eyes. He glanced at all three of them, confused. “Roy say you’re not good daddy, daddy. And he say mommy not should marry you.”

Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side. “He was kidding,” Felicity chuckled, smoothing Lydia’s hair. “If you’re gonna be my kid, you really need to get a sense for sarcasm, baby.” She teased, pulling her daughter in for a hug.

“I am your kid, mommy.”

“I know,” she said, picking Lydia up. “But Roy didn’t mean that. He was just joking.”

“Then why you cry?” She asked, crinkling her little nose.

Felicity carried her over to Oliver, “Because Roy said he wants to be a really good daddy, just like yours. And it made mommy  _super_ happy to hear that.”

“You happy cry?” She asked, her voice raising in high-pitched disbelief.

She laughed, kissing her daughter’s cheek. “Yes.” 

Oliver laughed once, putting his hand over his heart, “You scared me.”

“Roy and mommy both think you have the  _best_ daddy.” She said, looking up at her husband. His eyes softened as he pulled her under his arm.

“My too.” Lydia agreed, reaching for Oliver, and then all three of them turned to Roy with smiles on their faces. 

He rolled his eyes at all of them, “I’m so out of here.” He said, shaking his head as he tried to leave the kitchen.

“Not without  _hugs_ , Roy!” Lydia objected. 

Seeing that they were all standing in the doorway, he knew he wasn’t about to get past them without cooperating. With another irritated sound that Felicity saw right through, he hugged them.

And then Thea and William weaseled into the doorway, pushing their way into the hug too, once they noticed all the love happening in the kitchen.


	7. "Because I'm not good with knives" Bodyguard Part 2

anonymous asked: 12 or 14 for the prompts!!

_“Why do you have a gun?”  
_

_“Because I’m not good with knives.”_

_Bodyguard AU part 2_

* * *

 

Oliver couldn’t keep his mind off of his beautiful bodyguard. His crush was so bad that he had snuck into his mom’s office to take pictures of the bodyguards schedules. Now he knew when Felicity was working, and he was surprised by how much he looked forward to it.

When he told Tommy about how Felicity had caught him trying to escape her security and pinned him down in the alley behind Big Belly Burger, his friend had howled with laughter and said that she sounded just like Oliver’s type.

And ever since then, Oliver had been on his best behavior for Felicity. Diggle knew that the Queen son was smitten with his employee, but luckily he thought it was funny and not problematic.

Felicity worked during the days mostly, but she had some evening shifts. When he saw her name on the roster for those nights, he made sure that he didn’t have plans to go out. He liked spending his time at his home with her.

Since he went out of his way to give her uneventful nights, she didn’t mind using the gym in their basement to spar with him.  _Those_ were always good nights.

She was surprisingly flirty, and he found himself looking forward to making her smile as much as he looked forward to having her sweating in a sports bra as she attempted to teach him something.

“Earth to Oliver,” Tommy clapped his hand over his friend’s shoulder. “None of these women are going to go home with you if you keep sitting here moping.”

It was a Friday night, and he was out at a club with Tommy and Laurel. 

Felicity was supposed to be working and he’d planned on staying home, but she’d been given the night off, apparently. “I’m not moping,” he argued with a frown.

“You definitely are.” Laurel sang, eating the olive from her drink and raising her eyebrows at him. 

Oliver rolled his eyes at her, “I did say that I didn’t feel like going out tonight.” He grumbled.

“Since when do you not feel like going out?” She asked.

“Since he met Felicity Smoak.” Tommy answered before Oliver could say a word.

He glared at Tommy as Laurel quirked an eyebrow, “Who is Felicity Smoak?” she asked, drawing out her name.

“His bodyguard.” Tommy quipped.

Oliver sighed in annoyance, “You know I’m capable of answering for myself, right?”

Tommy winked, “His  _sexy_ bodyguard. Ollie has it bad.”

Laurel chuckled, “He always does.”

“She’s different.” Oliver said. Looking down at his beer, he focused on gliding his finger over the rim of his glass.

Laurel rested her chin on her palm, “Wow, you do have it bad, don’t you?”

He fixed his friend with a look, “I only met her a couple of weeks ago, I do not  _have it bad_.”

“Ollie Queen falls fast and hard.” She said quietly, barely audible over the music. “You always have.” He knew that Laurel had had a little bit of a crush on him since high school, and he’d tried multiple times to see her the same way, but it had never worked out. But he hated that it hurt her feelings whenever he dated other girls. 

“I’m sorry, Laurel,” he sighed, kicking himself. She was such a good friend that he often forgot she had feelings for him at all. She never made it awkward or pushed him for anything more than friendship. Actually, he’d been wondering lately if something had happened between her and Tommy with the strange way they’d been acting around each other. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

She took a sip of her drink, glancing at Tommy, who just watched her. Oliver shook his head, one of them was going to tell him eventually.

“Well, you three look like you’re having a miserable time.”

Oliver spun around to see Felicity, dressed in a strapless blue dress and high heels. She looked completely different than she did at work, but just as beautiful. Her hair was down, she wasn’t wearing glasses, and she had more makeup on than usual. “Hi,” he breathed in surprise. “Felicity.”

 _Felicity?_  He caught Laurel mouthing to Tommy, her eyebrows shooting up and a wide grin spreading across her face.

Felicity smiled, but he tore his eyes away from her when he noticed the guy next to her, the hand that was attached to hers. “Carter.” Oliver said with even more shock.

“You two…know each other?” Felicity asked, cocking her head to the side.

“We all went to high school together.” Carter offered. “Me, Oliver, and Tommy and Laurel too.”

Felicity waved, “Well, what a nice little reunion. I didn’t really have friends in high school. Unless the other two kids in the computer club counted as my friends, but they didn’t really like to talk, at all…and I mean, clearly I do. They…did not look like any of you, either.” She said, glancing around at the group.

Oliver let out a low chuckle, wondering if her babbling would ever stop amusing him. When she looked at him, she smiled. He couldn’t help himself, he gestured to their interlocked hands and raised an eyebrow at her. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Felicity.”

She looked down at her hand as if she forgot Carter was holding it. “Oh, we’ve gone on two dates, this being the second. We’re not  _dating_ dating. Just…dating. I know it’s the same word but it means something different in my head,” she blurted, smacking Carter in the chest.

Oliver smiled, leaning closer to her, “I would have thought you’d mention it, with all the time we spend together, I mean.” He said slowly, raising an eyebrow at her and completely ignoring Carter Bowen’s presence.

Felicity chuckled, “maybe if so much of that time wasn’t spent with you on your back, you would’ve had a chance to  _ask_ if I was seeing someone.” She said, leaning towards him, too. Oliver gave her a crooked smile. The attraction was undeniable. He knew she felt it as much as he did.

She stood in front of him, holding another guy’s hand, and she still had that flirtatious look in her eyes. She still looked at  _him_ like she felt something for him. Carter Bowen was a speed bump. But unlike previous conquests, he wasn’t just trying to get another man’s girlfriend into his bed. He wanted Felicity, he knew he did. More than a game, more than a one time thing.

Felicity’s face dropped in the same moment that Carter released her hand.

“Uh…” He glanced between them. “You two…?”

Her eyes widened, but Oliver just grinned. He’d really been hoping she’d say something like that. “I help Oliver work out!” She said, “Like, in a gym. I train with him. Which usually ends in me kicking his ass, and him….on his back, hence…” Felicity closed her eyes, shaking his head.

“Oh,” Carter said, “Right. Okay.”

When their table was ready, Oliver could see the hesitation on Felicity’s face, and he quickly asked if they wanted to come eat with them instead of waiting. Felicity agreed enthusiastically, much to his pleasure. And Carter looked irritated, which was just a bonus.

Oliver was happy when Carter followed behind Tommy and Laurel to the table, leaving Felicity behind and giving Oliver the perfect opportunity to put his hand on her lower back and lean into her. He put his lips to her ear as he led her behind his friends, “Carter Bowen, Felicity? Really?” he asked, careful to keep his voice light and teasing, masking the disdain he was really feeling. “You can do a lot better.”

Felicity just lifted her shoulder, leaning against him and looking incredibly satisfied with his words. She  _liked_ this. She liked that he was giving her so much attention, that he was even a little jealous. And he liked that she liked it.

When they got to the table, Carter pulled out her chair and she sat beside him, but Oliver made sure to put himself directly across from her.

For the entire dinner, despite Carter’s best efforts to keep Felicity’s attention and to make Oliver look like an idiot, the guy was having a terrible date. Felicity barely looked interested in him, seeming more entertained by Oliver, Tommy, and Laurel’s stories than his pretentious bragging.

The sparks flying across the table between Oliver and Felicity also couldn’t be denied or ignored. By the end of the meal, Oliver almost felt bad for Bowen, but then he’d stood up from the table while Laurel was in the middle of a sentence, putting his hand on Felicity’s shoulder. “I have to wake up early tomorrow, so I’d like to be getting home,” he said. Not only interrupting, but speaking to her in such a condescending tone that Oliver wanted to knock his teeth in.

Felicity looked surprised for a brief moment, but then she nodded, glancing at Laurel apologetically, “Okay.”

Bowen clenched his jaw, clearly he was reaching his limit on patience for the evening. He’d probably be pissed if the girl he took out spent the date flirting with another man, too, but Oliver didn’t care. Carter was an ass. 

It’d felt more like a date for  _him_ and Felicity, and he wasn’t sorry about that. “Well are you coming?” Carter snapped.

Felicity crinkled her nose, “Is that your way of asking me to go home with you?” She asked, keeping her voice perfectly controlled and calm while Oliver, Tommy, and Laurel all had their mouths hanging open. For such a self-proclaimed saint, Bowen was in especially crude manner tonight. And he’d only been on one date with her? Oliver was certain that there was no way he was getting another one. And there wasn’t a chance in hell that Felicity would agree to go anywhere with him.

“I’m sorry, my politeness went away somewhere around the time that Queen started playing footsies with you under the table.”

Felicity snorted, and Oliver laughed, not realizing that Carter had noticed, but he wasn’t sorry for that, either. Carter Bowen was used to getting what he wanted. Oliver knew he used to be a lot like that, too, but luckily he’d  _grown_ in his life. 

To his amusement, Felicity just stared at Carter with wide, unapologetic eyes as if the answer was obvious. Which it was. “No,” she said slowly, raising an eyebrow with a slight smile, “I’m not going home with you. You can go to hell.”

Carter just rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Good luck with Queen, he’s used to my sloppy seconds.”

Oliver stood up, and Carter jumped back. He pulled on his coat jacket, trying to recover from his scared reaction. “Oliver, sit down,” Laurel said, rolling her eyes as Carter walked away.

But Oliver followed after Carter, and Tommy scrambled up, too. “Bowen,” he stopped him. “I just want you to know that if that woman wasn’t the classiest woman I’ve ever met, I’d be kicking your ass right now.” He poked his finger into his chest before turning back to the table. 

“You’re worthless, Oliver.” Carter sneered.

Oliver wheeled back around, raising his finger to him in warning with Tommy hot on his heels. “Do not push me.” He said lowly, meeting Bowen’s eyes to make sure he knew how serious he was.

As Carter stormed off, Laurel started to cheer, standing up from the table, and Felicity quickly joined in on the applause, making the surrounding tables glance from the girls to Oliver and Tommy.

They spent another hour drinking and talking before Tommy finally sighed, asking Laurel if she wanted a ride home. Oliver pinched his lips together, glancing at Felicity, who smiled at him over her drink.

After they said goodbye and his friends left, Oliver smiled at her, shaking his head. “I’m really glad I saw you tonight.”

“You’ll see me tomorrow,” she rolled her eyes. “First thing in the morning.”

“I know.” He said, meeting her eyes, “but I’m glad I saw you tonight.”

She smiled, “Yeah, well, me too. You saved me from a pretty terrible date.”

“Can I bring you home?”

Felicity nodded, “I was hoping you would offer. Carter was kind of my ride.”

Oliver breathed out a laugh, standing from the table, “Carter’s a tool.”

She rolled her eyes, taking his hand in the most natural way he’d ever felt, and he led her to the door.

Once she was in the car and he was settled behind the wheel, Felicity crawled over the console and into his lap. “Oh,” he said, his eyebrows shooting up.

He caught the smallest glimpse of her smile before she was kissing him.

Oliver gripped his knees, not about to object with the way she was rocking her hips against him. He took his time kissing her, much longer than he’d usually spend, just getting acquainted with her mouth. Then he allowed his hands to explore her body.

Her legs were smooth, and he ran his fingers down to her ankles, making her shiver like she’d been waiting for him to do exactly that, before lifting his hands to cup her face, kissing her harder.

Felicity moaned, hovering over his lap as she gently wrapped her arms around his neck. His head was groggy, so caught up in the moment that it took him a while to notice that she was whispering something… “more,” she mumbled against his lips.

Oliver groaned, sliding his hands beneath her dress and up her thighs. 

He froze when he felt the holster on her leg. It reminded him that he really didn’t need to defend her against Carter, but she’d let him anyway. She definitely didn’t need him to threaten anyone with an ass kicking, since she could probably handle it much better than he would, yet she hadn’t said a word about it or tried to stop him. “Why do you have a gun?” He asked, pulling back from her.

“Because I’m not good with knives,” she breathed quickly, pulling him back by his hair.

“You’re not even working tonight…” he said into her mouth.

“Yeah, so?”

Oliver put his hands on either side of her face, “Felicity,” he said, holding her at bay.

She huffed, “why are you stopping?”

“You have a gun on your thigh.” He laughed.

She rolled her eyes, and Oliver glanced down at her swollen lips. And then she flicked the bottom of her dress up, exposing not only her holster, but her underwear, which made Oliver’s eyes darken. Unstrapping the gun, she put it in his car console and turned back to face him. Felicity raised her empty hands, her chest rising and falling quickly. “Okay?” she asked.

Oliver groaned, “God, you’re hot.” And she giggled as he tugged on her hips, pulling her body back to his so he could kiss her again.


	8. "I'm very particular about what I put in my body"

_trueromantic1 asked: #6_

_“I’m very particular about what I put in my body.”_

* * *

 

“Felicity and I are going out.” Sara said as she glided into the bunker.

“Going out?” Oliver asked with a frown.

Sara’s smile got wider, “Yup.”

Felicity trailed in behind her friend, sighing. Sara just rolled her eyes, putting her things away. “You said tonight should be quiet and that you and Dig could handle it if anything came up.”

Oliver hesitated, he’d given Curtis, Rene, and Dinah the night off. He’d even told Dig and Sara to go home and relax. He really was expecting the most uneventful night they’d had in weeks. But he was also looking forward to having some alone time with one babbling blonde. Which was exactly why he was so excited. He’d been picturing staying in the foundry with Felicity…maybe getting dinner and just having a chance to finally  _talk_ to her. Without bad guys interrupting, or their team constantly coming in and out, or every other priority they had to focus on since they got back.

Sara raised an eyebrow at him, “Problem, Oliver?”

He watched her for a moment, “No.” He finally said. He’d barely had five minutes alone with Felicity since they got home from Lian Yu. But they’d agreed to press pause on their… _whatever they were_ , so that Oliver could focus on William.

He’d be lying if he said he was completely happy with that decision, though. Knowing that she still cared about him, that her mind was open to the idea of being with him again, made it nearly impossible for him to stay away from her most nights. To not fantasize about all the things he thought he wouldn’t ever have back.

He finally had her in the bunker again, flirting with him instead of ignoring him. He’d see her sitting in her chair and have to fight the urge to go over to her and rub her shoulders or run his hand down her back like he wanted to.

God, he wanted to touch her again.

“Felicity and I need to meet some men.” Sara said, throwing her arm over Felicity’s shoulders. He watched as the love of his life cringed, closing her eyes while Sara smiled from ear to ear. “Or women,” she continued, “I’m still trying to persuade her on that.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes at Sara, and she winked.

Felicity cleared her throat, “I’ll have my phone.” She said, “You can call me if anything comes up.” 

Oliver licked his lips, nodding at her. Sara smiled victoriously and did a little dance. “All right then, let’s go party. We’ll see you boys later.”

Felicity kept her eyes on Oliver as she slipped out from under Sara’s arm, “Let me just check a few things before we go.” She said, heading for her computers.

Oliver took the opportunity to catch Sara’s arm, pulling her off to the side and mumbling lowly, “What are you doing?”

Sara just shrugged, “We’re two single women living in the city, Oliver. She can’t spend every night holed up down here with your mopey self while you brood about bank robbers.” She gestured to Diggle, “and  _that one_ , cleaning his gun every night is just as depressing!”

Oliver frowned, “Maybe she likes being down here.”

“She likes being near you.” Sara answered bluntly. “But you’re not making her a priority right now.”

Oliver’s lips formed a thin line as he glanced down at Sara. “That’s not fair.”

She sighed, “I know. It’s not…but it doesn’t mean it’s not true. Felicity survived a psychotic mad man and an exploding island. She’s been through some shit, too, Oliver. And it’s okay that you have a lot on your plate right now. It’s understandable. But she deserves to let loose, to not sit around and wait for you to be ready.”

He closed his eyes, “I would never ask her to do that…”

Sara put her hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to, Ollie.” She looked at him sympathetically before sighing. Then she lifted her shoulder, smirking up at him, “Besides, I’m here now, and she looks like she could use a friend.”

“So do you.” He said gently.

She smiled sadly, “See? It works out.”

After the girls left, Oliver and Diggle spent a few hours training. But Oliver was distracted. He had no idea if Sara and Felicity would be coming back to the bunker or if she’d get home okay. He was constantly glancing at the clock. 

Diggle finally sighed, “Just call her.”

Oliver shot him a look, “What?”

“Felicity, man,” he said, shaking his head while he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Just call her and make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s with a time traveling ex-assassin, Diggle.” He scoffed, “I think she’s fine.”

Diggle shrugged, “Fine, don’t call her then. Stay up all night worrying.”

Oliver groaned, “It’s just…I haven’t had a chance to talk to her very much since we got back, and I don’t know…” His stomach turned at the idea that they could be on very different pages. It wasn’t that he expected her to wait for him. He just didn’t care how long  _he_ had to wait for her. Is that how she felt, though?

The possibility of her going home with someone, of not loving him like he loved her kind of had him freaking out.

John smirked, shaking his head like he knew something. “So call her.”

With a nod, Oliver headed for his phone. It didn’t take much more convincing than that. Her phone went to voicemail the first time he called, and he almost left it at that, but then he tried one more time. “Oliver?” She answered on the third ring. “is everything okay?”

Her words were slurred and he could hear loud music and voices in the background. Of course Sara had taken her to some kind of club. What was wrong with a nice, quiet bar? That prohibited anyone from going near her.  _Okay, easy there tough guy._

“Uh, yeah. Everything’s okay. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Aw,” he could hear the smile in her voice, and it made him smile too. “Yeah, I’m fine. Eric is buying me a drink.”

“Eric?” Oliver asked, feeling his heart drop a little bit.

“Uh huh,” she sang.

He cleared his throat, “Where’s Sara?”

“Uh… I’m not sure.”

“She’s not with you?” Oliver asked, trying not to sound like the overprotective boyfriend that he had no right to  _act_ like, but he somehow still  _felt_ like. 

There was something going on between them. 

It was complicated because of how they felt about each other, but it was simple because of William. 

“Um, no,” she said, and he could picture her shaking her head. 

His head finally clicked what Sara was trying to do. She was pushing him. She wanted him to define whatever it was. She wanted him to face these feelings, and probably to admit them to Felicity. The flirting, the late nights, the longing looks. All without any real conversations. They said they weren’t together, but he wanted to be. And most of the time he felt like they were. It was crazy how easy it was to fall back into that groove with her.

But it wouldn’t be fair to her. He had to remind himself of that every day. Just because he wanted to be with Felicity in the “all in” kind of sense, didn’t mean he could make that a priority right now. Yet he couldn’t ask her to wait until he could give her what she deserved. He felt like he couldn’t win. But he had a bigger problem right now. “Felicity, do you see Sara?”

He glanced at John, “she’s drunk with some guy,” he whispered.

John raised his eyebrows, “good for her.”

Oliver glared at him, “At a club, Diggle. And she lost Sara.”

His friend sighed, “Felicity,” John said loud enough for her to hear and Oliver put her on speaker phone, “What club are you at?”

“John!” Felicity yelled in excitement. “Hi!”

“Hi,” John said with a smile, “What club are you at?”

“Poison!” She answered, “Are you coming here? If you do…” She dropped her voice to a whisper, “don’t bring Oliver.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes at the phone before glancing up at Dig. John just looked amused, “Why can’t I bring Oliver?”

“Because I’m drunk!” She whispered back loudly. “And I do not play well with Oliver when I’m drunk. Well, I mean, I actually play  _really_ well with him when I’m drunk, which would probably be a problem for us right now with all of these  _feelings._ Oh my god, John. I have so many feelings,” She groaned. “I just-have you seen his eyes? How do they manage to look even more gorgeous and  _blue_ -”

“Okay,” John interrupted, cutting her off. “Stay put, do you hear me?”

Oliver kicked himself for wishing he could hear more about her feelings…but they had to get to Poison. The last thing any of them wanted was Felicity alone and drunk at a bar with some stranger. “Okay!” Felicity yelled, “Can’t wait to see you, love you, bye!”

And then she hung up.

He told John that he’d handle it, and he was at Poison fifteen minutes later. To his chagrin, he spotted Felicity in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with who he assumed was Eric. Thankfully, he could see Sara, too, dancing just a few feet away.

Part of him wondered if he should just turn around and walk away. Sara had found her, and they were both okay. He really wasn’t needed there. But he knew rather quickly that his protectiveness, or more honestly, his jealousy, was too far gone to not talk to her. He had to at least hear her tell him to leave before he could.

It was also clear from her phone conversation that she didn’t want him there, but her  _reasons_ for that, her feelings for him, kind of made this the only place he wanted to be. Unfortunately for him, her face dropped when she saw him approaching.  _All right, she’s not pleased._  Her hips stopped moving, and the Eric guy behind her tried to pull on her waist, getting her to move again.

She wiggled her way out of his arms, keeping her eyes on Oliver. “You’re not John.” She said when he stopped a few inches away from her.

He shook his head, staring down at her eyes that were glossy and drunk, but beautiful. “I was worried about you.”

“Ollie?” Sara asked, a knowing smirk on her lips. She crossed her arms, cocking her head to the side, “What do you think you’re doing here? What part of ‘girls’ night’ didn’t you understand?”

He gave her an annoyed glare, “Felicity couldn’t find you. You lost her.”

Sara rolled her eyes, “I was in the bathroom.” She gestured around, “When I came back, she was right where I left her. We’re okay, aren’t we?”

Felicity’s expression slipped into wide smile. She reached for his hands, and he easily let her take them. “Will you dance with me?”

Oliver watched her hesitantly. He did  _not_ dance. But he was afraid that if he said no, he’d end up back in the bunker while she danced with that Eric tool.

The guy was still standing off to the side, sizing Oliver up and waiting for Felicity to pay attention to him again. In his hesitation, Felicity rolled her eyes at him, pulling her hands away at the same time that she turned back towards Eric.

 _Yeah, not happening._ He pulled her back to him, pressing his chest against hers and watching as she giggled, grinning from ear to ear.

He shook his head in amusement. If that wasn’t the most breathtaking, sexy, adorable face he’d ever see… Felicity stepped closer, and Oliver’s eyes slipped shut. He reached for her hips, letting her move against him as her face found his neck.

“Hey,” he heard a man slur from behind Felicity, and his eyes opened to give Eric an icy stare. “You just gonna ditch me like that?” He asked.

Felicity nodded, not moving her face from Oliver’s neck. “Oliver is here,” she sighed. It was a good enough reason for her. It was an acceptable answer for him, too. By the annoyed expression that crossed Eric’s face, he did not feel the same way.

Oliver couldn’t help but smile at the relieved, comfortable tone of her voice, though. The way she nestled her face into his neck, her hands flattening on his back. As if the fact that he was there made her feel perfectly safe and relaxed.

Distracted, Oliver had assumed Eric walked away. But stupidly, he then tried reaching his hand out to touch her back.

Oliver froze, his intuition was telling him to remove the guy’s arm from his body, but his common sense was telling him to keep his cool. But then his hand gripped the back of Felicity’s shirt and he  _tugged._ Felicity gasped, instinctively squeezing closer into Oliver’s arms.

Reacting, Oliver reached over Felicity’s shoulder to free her shirt from Eric’s fingers, rearing them back violently. The guy cried out in pain, and Oliver used his disorientation to shove him in the chest, knocking him back a few paces like he was nothing.  _He was nothing._  

Waiting until the man had recovered enough to focus on him again, Oliver lifted a finger in warning, “don’t you dare touch her,” he growled. His voice low, probably inaudible over the music, but he could tell that his expression was giving the same threat, because Eric’s face dropped.

All Oliver had to do was narrow his eyes, and Eric puffed up his chest and stormed off.

Knowing that they’d been in much more dangerous situations didn’t stop him from scanning the club, keeping Felicity protectively between his arms as he did so. It didn’t really matter what they did or how many times they risked their lives for the city, it would never be normal or okay with him to see someone grabbing her like that.

He dropped his mouth to her ear, “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She said instantly, hugging him tightly.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked next. Felicity shook her head with a tiny whimper, and he smiled. “I’ll take you home, Felicity.”

“Mm-mm,” she disagreed, shaking her head and brushing her nose against his neck.

He closed his eyes, feeling her gentle breath on his skin, causing goosebumps to rise even though the club was smoldering. “If I let you take me home,” she mumbled, “then you’ll walk me to the door, and you’ll be sweet…a perfect gentleman. But I’ll be disappointed when you decline coming inside.”

Oliver let out a shaky breath, “ _Felicity_ …”

She groaned, “I love hearing you say my name like that.”

He groaned too, but his was in frustration. He had all the restraint in the world when it came to criminals that he wanted to put an arrow through, but when it came to denying this woman of whatever it was she wanted?

He was hopeless.

But there was no way that this could happen tonight. For a list of reasons. The top of which being how intoxicated she was. Taking a deep, calming breath, he forced himself to lean back enough to look down at her. She stared up at him, her eyes darting between his and down to his lips, and he suddenly regretted trying to look at her. All he saw was a familiar passion…one that they’d both been trying to mask for way too long.

Oliver licked his lips, his mind racing for something that would placate her, that would let her know how much he wanted her but how  _awful_ this timing was.

He was terrified of losing her.

Of pushing her away again.

And he really didn’t want to ruin everything in one night. “Let me take you home.” He said, giving her a pointed look. “And we can  _talk_.”

She frowned, and he wondered if they’d even end up having a conversation, or if she’d be passed out before that. He knew from experience that the more she drank, the sleepier she got. She really only had two levels of drunkenness; adorable, flirty, affectionate Felicity, and sleeping Felicity.

“What kind of talking?” She asked, “Because you and I have gotten pretty good at communicating without much need for words.” Her voice was low, and he shuttered as she bit her lip.

She was going to be the death of him.

Oliver shook his head at her, laughing slightly. And then he glanced up at Sara, who was weaving in and out the crowd, dancing her way through the people. She sensed the eyes on her, and she looked over at him. He lifted his chin, knowing she understood that it meant he was leaving, with Felicity. She nodded back, letting him know that she was coming too as she made her way towards them.

“Huh,” Felicity said, frowning as her eyebrows furrowed, “maybe it’s just a  _you_ thing.”

“What?” He asked, smiling down at her.

“Talking without words.” She said, gripping his shirt. He shook his head with a breathy laugh, realizing that she was referring to the silent understanding between him and Sara. He would hardly compare that to the wordless things he could say to Felicity when they were alone together…the things that he could understand from the way she touched him, the way she moved…

“How much have you had to drink?” He asked, analyzing her face. 

Felicity thought for a moment as Sara sidled up beside her. Oliver held a finger up to Sara, waiting as Felicity pursed her lips, “I haven’t had that much.” She said, “You know me, I’m a lightweight. I hate anything that doesn’t taste like fruit or candy.” She shrugged, glancing at Sara and giving her a friendly smile, “I’m very particular about what I put in my body.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side and remembering the words he’d once said to her. Then she grinned at him, like she was remembering too. The smile she offered him was sweet, holding all of the warmth that he associated with Felicity Smoak. 

She rolled her eyes at the surprised expression on his face, “I didn’t mean  _you_ , Oliver. I’m not particular about the ways we do  _that_ …”

He choked, his eyes flashing to Sara’s just in time to catch hers widening in shock, and then she was laughing. Sara leaned into Felicity, “Oh my god, Felicity, you’re priceless. I love you.” She said through her giggles.

Felicity seemed pleased with that, dropping her hands from Oliver’s hips. “Aw, I love you too!” She abandoned him to hug Sara back, joining in on the laughter even though he was pretty certain she had no idea what she’d said that was so funny.


	9. "He's really heavy" College Students Part 2

_trueromantic1 asked: #8_

_“Excuse me! Can you help me? He’s really heavy.”_

_College AU part 2_  


* * *

 

He couldn’t stop thinking about his date with Felicity. It had been perfect. Better than anything he’d fantasized about since he met her.

Oliver had wanted to call her as soon as he got home from dropping her off at her dorm, but he’d convinced himself to not be  _that_ desperate. Planning on waiting until the next day, he’d gone back to his apartment and gushed to Tommy about it like a teenage girl, telling him everything; how different it felt to connect with her on a deeper level, how incredible it was to make her laugh, how he was already looking forward to seeing her again, spending time with her.

His friend had listened to all of it with a smile on his face, not teasing him over his excitement, not even once. By the end of his rambling, Tommy had patted him on the shoulder, “I’m happy for you, brother,” he’d said. “But don’t ask her out again until Monday.”

“What?” Oliver had frowned, turning around to look at Tommy. “I already mentioned that creamery we found last summer and told her we should go. I want to see her, like, tomorrow.”

Tommy shook his head, “That’s a great idea, but wait a little while, ice cream will still be there in a few days. Bring it up again with her in class on Monday. Use it as an excuse to sit next to her and talk to her.”

Oliver had contemplated it, slightly disappointed that if he followed Tommy’s plan, he wouldn’t talk to her again for three days, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to scare her off by being too eager.

He’d slept on it, and then he hadn’t called her on Saturday. Or Sunday. He did stalk her on social media, though. All weekend. Not that she posted anything, but he pathetically checked anyway. She’d taken a picture of them together when they were on a walk after dinner, and he was half hoping she’d post it. Of course, she didn’t. It was just one date, why would she plaster his face for all of her friends to see? She hadn’t texted or called him either, which…part of him had also been hoping for.

When Monday morning finally comes, Oliver’s ready for class an hour early, a plan in his mind, ready to be acted on. Tommy was rolling out of bed and into the kitchen as Oliver’s putting his shoes on. 

His roommate snorts, shaking his head as he walks to the coffee pot in the kitchen. “You’re hopeless, Queen.”

Oliver just smiles, “I don’t even care, Merlyn. See you in class!” He calls as he shuts the door behind him.

It was a short drive to the coffee shop, just off-campus. There  _was_ one on-campus, right next to the building Felicity lived in, but luckily for him, coffee had come up in conversation during their date, and she’d said she hated the coffee there. So he knew not to stop there.

After ordering both of them coffees, he hurries to her dorm, knowing that she likes to get to class early, and she could be leaving soon. There’s still forty minutes until class, but she’d also told him how much she enjoys walking to class. How long would it take her to get there? Did she leave already? Maybe he should have left sooner.

Once he’s parked in front of her building, he jogs with the coffees in his hands to catch up to a girl walking inside ahead of him. She gives him a strange look over her shoulder until he offers a smile, and then she blushes. “Hi, could you point me in the direction of Felicity Smoak’s room?” He asks, lifting the coffees.

The girl bites her lip, “She’s on the second floor. Right side, end of the hall, I think. You’re not like, a creep or anything are you?” She raises an eyebrow, holding the door open for him so he can walk in with the cups in hand.

He chuckles, “No. I’m…a friend of hers.”

The girl shrugs, heading off in another direction.

Oliver’s feet move towards the stairs, his heart beginning to race as he makes his way up the stairs. Her name is on her door, written on a paper flower just like her roommate Sara’s.

He freezes in front of the door. What if she thinks he’s a creep, like the girl had suggested, for coming here? For finding her room and showing up on a Monday morning? He’d gone over the plan in his mind all weekend, but maybe he should have talked it through with Tommy. 

It had seemed sweet when he thought of it, but maybe she’d be freaked out.

He can still bail. Wait for her outside the auditorium with the coffee, or save her a seat… Holding his breath and feeling his hands start to shake, Oliver quickly turns back for the stairs. Just as he’s pushing the door to the stairwell open, he hears her door swing open. “Excuse me!” She calls out to him, “Can you help me? He’s  _really_ heavy.”

Oliver turns around slowly, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes Felicity in. She stands in her doorway wearing plaid pajama shorts and a purple tank top. Her hair is loose and wild from sleep, he  _hoped_ , falling over her shoulders in wild waves. She doesn’t have her glasses on, and her eyes are still sleepy. She looks adorable.

He notices all of those things, but his attention is mainly focused on the man leaning on the other side of the doorway, his arm draped over Felicity’s shoulders. She’s trying to hold him up.

As she steadies the guy, Felicity’s eyes glance up at him, and they widen. “Oliver?” she cries, her face dropping. “What are you doing here?”

Feeling just as uncomfortable as she looks, he steps back into the hallway, letting the stairwell door close behind him and lifting the coffee cups as an answer. “I just thought…”

She squeezes her eyes shut, “this is…not what it looks like.” She grumbles, adjusting the guy as he groans at her, trying to get back into her room. She blocks him, but he’s clearly not enjoying being kicked out of her room, half asleep and definitely still a little drunk.

Oliver clears his throat, setting the cups on the floor and going to her door to help her drag the half conscious, groaning man into the hall. “What are you doing with him?” He asks

“Nothing. We finished working on a group project last night, and we all decided to go out for drinks. Ray had a few too many, and my roommate, Sara, is gone until tonight, so I let him crash on her bed. I didn’t want him driving home…”

“Um…I meant…where are you  _bringing_ him?”

“Oh,” she says, her voice rising as she looks at him from the other side of Ray. He had to admit though, he was happy to hear that explanation. “Right. I was going to leave him out here.”

“In the hallway?”

“Yup.”

Oliver lets out a breath as Felicity lowers him gently to the floor. “Are you sure…”

She purses her lips. “This isn’t the first time this has happened. Sara doesn’t like anyone being in our room while she’s not here, but the girls next door eventually come out and give him some coffee, and send him on his way home.”

“Okay,” Oliver says, offering her an awkward smile. He glances down at Ray as the man sighs, curling up on the floor and falling back asleep. He looks perfectly comfortable there. Well…

“Speaking of coffee,” she says, biting her lip and pointing to the cups he’d left on the floor.

“Oh, yeah,” Oliver responds, turning to pick them up. “This is for you. I’m sorry…I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to come here unannounced like this…”

She smiles at him, her eyes hot on his, making his breath catch in his throat. The look is brazen, flirty, as her fingers brush against his, taking the cup from him. “I’m glad you did.” She says, “I was kind of worried when you didn’t call.”

Despite how sexy that look had just been, her face falls slightly, her eyes dropping to her cup as she pulls back the plastic. Oliver clenches his jaw, cursing Tommy’s name. “I was told that girls liked it if you waited a few days.” He mumbles. 

He’d dated plenty of girls, he just never cared about calling after. If he felt like it, he’d call if and when he wanted to see them again. He’d never been  _anxious_ over it, though.

She narrows her eyes up at him, “Did Tommy tell you that?”

He laughs, nodding his head, “Yes. Yes, he did. Was he wrong?”

Felicity nods too, resting her back against her door. “Yes. Yes, he was. Very wrong.”

“Well, he actually told me to wait until Diggle’s class today, but I came up with a plan to see you sooner.” He says, raising his coffee to her.

Felicity grins, any trace of being upset that he hadn’t called is gone. 

His breath feels tight as he realizes how easy she is to please. Their whole date had been the same way. She’d been nervous, but she was sweet, blushing at every compliment he’d offered and grinning like she was now, just happy to be there with him. It was enthralling. This woman had his full attention, and he wasn’t going to miss a moment of her.

“A plan that involves coffee, too.” She smiles, and he smiles back. “Man after my heart.” She mumbles, her eyes dancing across his face.

“Maybe I am…kind of…a little bit.” He whispers. 

She’s leaning against the door, and Oliver can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks. Her shoulders are bare and tan in the sunlight coming into the hallway, her hair is glowing and curly. Her face is fresh, her eyes bright, and her lips a natural, gorgeous shade of pink. His eyes focus on her mouth for a moment too long, and she notices, biting her lip nervously.

Kissing her in the hallway of her college dorm with a random guy sleeping on the floor a few feet away isn’t ideal, and if she didn’t look so perfect, he probably would have been able to stop himself from stepping closer. But she nods her head once, the movement so slight that he hardly notices, but it’s as if she understands the look on his face, and he can’t help but gravitate towards her.

He’s only a foot away when her face drops. “Class!” She cries.

Shoving her door open, she hurries in, her arm flying out to grab his hand and pull him inside. She pushes him onto her bed in the same movement that she sets her coffee on her desk.

Oliver huffs, watching as she rushes around her room, throwing her books into her bag. They still have twenty minutes before Diggle’s class starts, but he’s pretty sure that she’s used to sitting in class at least fifteen minutes early.

He knows that as long as she gets dressed in the next seven minutes, they have plenty of time to get to class on time. Besides, from what he’d heard from his peers, Diggle doesn’t care if you’re a few minutes late. He’d already planned on using that information to his advantage this semester.

“Felicity, I have my car right outside, we can make it.”

She lets out a relieved breath, but doesn’t slow down at all as she throws a sweater over her tank top. And then she rips her shorts down her waist, and he catches an unintentional glimpse of her green underwear before he slams his eyes shut. “Woah!”

He counts to twenty, and then he opens his eyes. She has her jeans on, and she’s pulling her bag over her shoulder while she looks at him curiously. “Do all women in their underwear get that reaction, or just me?”

Oliver raises an eyebrow at her. “Just you,” he answers. He picks up her coffee and hands it to her, gesturing for the door.

She steps over Ray as she heads for the stairs, and he follows right behind, locking her door behind him. “Why is that?” She asks as she jogs down the steps in front of him.

“Why is what?”

“Why am I the only girl that has you closing your eyes and yelling at the sight of me without pants on?”

He glances down at her as they leave the building and walk quickly to his car. Is she really asking that? “Because when I see you without your pants on, it’s going to be because you want me to, not because you’re rushing to get ready for class. Seeing you without your clothes on is going to mean something, Felicity.”

She raises an eyebrow at him as he opens the door for her. And she’s staring at him as he settles behind the wheel and pulls away from the curb. Once they’re moving, he looks back at her. “What? Is that bad thing?”

“No. Not bad.” She says, shaking her head. “Just surprising.”

“Why?” he asks quietly, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

Felicity continues to watch him, her eyes analyzing, and he can see that she’s trying to figure out if he’s trustworthy. He relaxes under the scrutiny, knowing that he is. Knowing how much he likes her, how he could easily fall in love with her if she gives him the chance. “Because you don’t typically do…I mean, I didn’t know that Oliver Queen…did that. That you…waited for it to mean something, you know…?”

He gives her a look as if she’s crazy for not seeing it, for not seeing why he cares, why it’s different because it’s  _her_ , and she laughs once. “I don’t typically show up at a girl’s door on a Monday morning, either. And I usually don’t get nervous asking her out. And I  _definitely_ don’t notice the freckle on her wrist. But it’s you. And you’re different.” He finishes obviously, as if that explains everything. And it does, to him.

Pulling into the parking lot, Oliver finds a spot close to the door, glancing at her as she looks out the windshield, chewing on her lip. “Why am I different?” She blurts.

Oliver hesitates with his hand on the door. He glances at the clock, “Do you want an answer right now, or do you want to be on time for class?”

Her eyebrows furrow, and he watches as she genuinely considers it. He breathes out a laugh at her concentration, waiting. “I want an answer now.” She says with a nod.

He leans back in his seat, turning his body so he can look at her, so that she knows she has his full attention. He doesn’t give a damn about being late if she doesn’t. “You don’t put up with my shit, Felicity. You’ve always seen me for who I am, ever since we met. And I can’t hide behind any kind of front, or facade, or…or  _charm_ when I talk to you. I can just be myself.”

She ponders his words for a moment, playing with her fingers. And then she looks up at him through her lashes, and his hand instinctively reaches for her, to tuck her hair behind her ear so he can see her face. He laughs under his breath, “there’s also that,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he lets his hand slide to her cheek. Her skin is smooth and warm beneath his palm, the bottom of his thumb barely grazing the corner of her mouth.

Felicity closes her eyes. “There’s what?” She whispers.

He watches her for a long moment, taking in every feature of her gorgeous face as it flushes, her chest rising and falling a little faster than before. “You looked up at me just now…and I knew I needed to touch you. I get that urge all the time, Felicity. To feel you somehow. I’ve honestly never felt like that before.”

She turns her cheek into his palm more, nestling it as she lets out a soft groan. “How are we going to survive a class about Human Sexuality together?”

Oliver grins, “If the first class was any indication, it’ll be amazing. I got a date with you because of it. I’m sitting here with you now…and you look way too pretty for it to be fair.” She giggles, much to his enchantment, reminding him again how easy it is to please her, and how good it feels to do it. How right. “ _And_ you don’t even care about being late to class. My mind is blown that you’d rather sit in my car right now. Seriously, are you going to explode because of this? Because we’re going to be at least five minutes late.”

Felicity shakes her head, slapping him gently on the chest. He catches her hand, looking down at the way her fingers look tangled in his. “And you think I’m not charmed by you,” she says quietly, her eyes flickering towards the building.

He waits for her to look at him again, and when she does, he speaks lowly, seriously, keeping his eyes trained on hers. “To answer your question, the difference with you, Felicity…is that I’m not playing games with you. I want  _you_.”

She takes in a shaky breath, her wide blue eyes darting between his. He stares at her with complete honesty, wanting her to see how much he means it. That she can trust him, despite his reputation. “That was…a pretty good answer.”

“I told you we’d be late to class if you wanted me to answer that question.” He says with a smile.

They’d cleared the air the other night, about their missed chance at a first date. But he knew it had hurt her, and he vowed to himself to always be honest with her, to not hide his feelings. He wants her to see how she makes him feel now.

“Class,” she whispers. “We should…we should get to class.”

He nods, opening his door without another word. He’s rounding the car as she gets out, and he holds his hand out for her. Felicity glances down at his offer,  adjusting her bag on her shoulder. And then she smiles, slipping her fingers through his as if she’d done it a million times. As if they belong there.

She walks beside him into the building, and he feels like he’s on top of the world. Unable to resist, Oliver lifts her fingers to his mouth before he opens the door for her, bringing a fresh blush to her cheeks and a shy smile to her lips just as she walked into the room.

“Ms. Smoak…Mr. Queen. It’s nice of you to join us.” Diggle says and every eye in the room turns to look at them.

Felicity’s reaction is to pale, dropping his hand like it’s on fire as she steps away from him. “Sorry, Professor Diggle,” she says, putting her head down and hurrying for a chair in the front row.

Diggle’s smile is knowing, almost cocky, unsurprised as if he expected to see this on his Monday morning. Oliver stares at Felicity for a moment as she quickly gets her notebook out. Half of him is amused, the other half is wondering if her reaction, her embarrassment, means that he should find a seat somewhere away from her.

“Mr. Queen,” Diggle says, “sit down anytime you’re ready…if you don’t mind.” He hears the chuckles from around the room, and he gives Tommy a glance before looking back to Felicity. 

She looks up at him, raising her eyebrows, her eyes darting from him to the empty chair beside her, telling him to sit down.  _Now_. He smiles, walking to take the seat.

Professor Diggle claps his hands together, “Okay, I’ll collect your journals at the end of class, but I won’t be reading them. They’re for you. I want you to truly use them to reflect on your thoughts, so I’ll just be checking to make sure you’re doing the assignments. But I wanted to ask you all something. You don’t have to share the things you wrote, but can anyone tell me what it was like to write the list? Did you find it challenging? Strange? What was your process like?”

As the students raise their hands, sharing how weird and eye opening it felt to compile a list of what they found attractive, telling different stories about how they chose to answer the prompt, their experience while making it, Oliver watches Felicity. She fidgets in her chair, her head twisting to look at whoever is talking.

And she always smiles. Her classmates have her full attention, and she genuinely seems to care about their answers. 

She’s very active in the conversation, but she doesn’t raise her hand. Oliver smiles, trying to listen like she is. But he can’t stop watching her, shaking his head slightly at how cute she is. Especially when she laughs at something Tommy’s saying while he winks at the girl sitting in front of him. He catches Felicity’s cheeks turning pink just as the girl’s do, feeling some kind of secondhand embarrassment for her, he guesses.

“What about you, Mr. Queen?” Diggle asks, “I’ve been interested to hear how the assignment went for you, after our last class.”

Oliver sighs, “I thought it was pretty easy, actually.” He answers. He glances back at Felicity in an extremely obvious way, “I know what I like.” He finishes softly, his eyes trained on her like no one else is in the room.

Felicity cocks her head to the side, and a slow smile spreads across her face. He expects her to be embarrassed by the transparent implication, but she leans towards him, “are you saying you wrote about me?” She asks in a whisper, raising an eyebrow.

He leans towards her, too, surprised that she’s able to ignore the classroom full of students. “What if I did?” He whispers back.

Her eyes dart between his, her face just a few inches away. “Well then I want to read it.” She smiles crookedly, her eyes dancing with his as if they’re sharing a secret. And they kind of are, the moment is unexpectedly intimate in the middle of their crowded class. “Please?” Her expression is alluring, and he’s sure that she knows what she’s doing to him, but he can’t look away.

Oliver purses his lips, shaking his head. “Not a chance.”

Felicity grins at him, her eyes spark with a challenge. She knows that she has him wrapped around he finger. She definitely knows, and he can’t bring himself to care. 

Her confidence intrigues him. He’s used to the sweet, shy girl that babbles and hides her head, but he can see it in her eyes. Knowing that he wrote his list about her sparks something new in her, something confident. Sultry. It’s sexy as all hell. And now he has something else to add to his list.

And then she turns her head back to Professor Diggle, who had moved on in his lecture once they’d started whispering, allowing them to fall into their own little world like the coolest Professor ever. “I think you’ll show me,” she whispers, leaning towards him one more time, “eventually.”

Felicity lifts her pen to her mouth as she turns to pay attention to Diggle, her eyes narrowing in concentration, but he can tell by the faint smile on her lips that she knows he’s still staring at her. Still fascinated. And in the cutest, hottest move she could possibly do, she pulls her sleeve up, exposing the freckle on her wrist and making him chuckle under his breath.

Damn, she’s  _everything_. Besides, if things with her end the way he’s already hoping they will, then she’s right. Eventually, she’ll come to understand every single thing he’d put on his list. He’ll tell her, or show her, all of it. She’ll know everything that he finds irresistible about her, and she’ll know how much he adores all of it. And he’ll continue to find new things every day for a very, very long time.


	10. "It doesn't look so tiny"

_anonymous  asked: Im say #11 if you havent.. but change the rough ganger to arrow maybe? Leather wearing hero lol_

_“Don’t tell me a tough gang banger like yourself is afraid of a tiny little needle.”  
_

_“It doesn’t look so tiny.”_

* * *

 

Brownie sundaes and building remote controlled airplanes. 

That was what Oliver was missing at home. Felicity had texted him earlier, asking when he’d be home and telling him that William wanted to finish his plane and fly it on the roof tonight. When he’d responded that he would probably be late, she’d teased him with the promise of brownies.

He sighed as he glanced through the last stack of paperwork he had to finish. Scrubbing his hands across his face, he glanced out of the window in his office. He was already trying to get home as fast as he could, but knowing what his family was up to only made him work faster. He had a son and a wife, two things that he’d always been afraid of dreaming about. And he just wanted to get home to them.

His phone started to ring, Felicity’s face popping up on his screen, and his heart sped up at the idea of hearing her voice. He’d had an awful day, and he’d barely even had a chance to kiss her this morning before she was rushing off to work, but he ignored the call with a groan. He still had at least an hour’s worth of work to do, and he knew she wouldn’t be very happy about that.

With new resolve, he straightened his back, focusing his eyes back to the documents in front of him.

He would call her on his way home, giving himself something extra to look forward to. 

They lived together and saw each other every day, but he  _loved_ talking to her on the phone. Her voice would always rise with excitement, as if she hadn’t spoken to him in days rather than hours, as if she wouldn’t see him later that night when they got home. And she’d babble on about whatever she was doing. It always put him in a better mood, to realize how long she could talk to him, how she told him everything and knew that he wanted to hear all of it, whether it was a funny story about her morning at work, or asking in a hushed tone about their evening plans. It never got old.

After another ten minutes, his phone started ringing again, and he frowned, seeing her face on the screen. If he didn’t answer, she usually just waited until he had a chance to call her back, knowing that he’d get back to her when he could. 

Worry dropped into his stomach, and he answered it this time. “Felicity?”

“It’s William.”

“Buddy, what’s wrong?” He asked, his heart sinking at the tense tone of his son’s voice.

“Uh, it’s Felicity…” he sighed, “Mr. Diggle just got here to pick us up, we’re taking her to the hospital.”

“I’m okay, honey!” He heard Felicity’s voice call in the background.

Despite her words, Oliver felt his breath catch in his throat, more anxious about his son’s mention of a hospital. He stood up, pulling his coat off of the back of his chair, “What happened?” He asked, already leaving, the paperwork forgotten on his desk.

“The airplane kind of exploded? I don’t know dad, it was up in the air, and then it was just flying everywhere.” William said, his voice holding a level of disbelief. “A piece of the metal hit Felicity in the arm.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” his son answered, “I’m okay. We’re on our way to the hospital now.”

“Go home, Oliver!” He heard his wife yell, “Take a shower, relax, and we’ll see you when we get back.”

He rolled his eyes. Like hell. “I’ll meet you in the emergency room.” He grumbled to William, ignoring her.

Oliver knew that his son’s remote airplane exploding wasn’t his fault, or William’s, or Felicity’s. But he didn’t like the images in his head as he imagined what happened. She was okay enough to be telling him what to do, so he also knew that he didn’t have any reason to freak out. But he was anyway.

He also felt a familiar pang of guilt knotting his stomach. He couldn’t help but blame himself for not answering her call the first time. They’d had to call Dig for a ride, and he could tell by the tone of his voice that the whole thing had scared William.

It also made him wonder how bad it actually was. Felicity was a pro at staying calm when she needed to, and he was worried that she was keeping it together for his son’s sake. Metal falling from the sky and hitting her in the arm couldn’t be good under any circumstance.

When he got to the hospital, Felicity was already being seen by a nurse, and he was led to her room. Opening the door, Dig and William stepped back, giving him a view of Felicity. She smiled uncomfortably at him, wiggling her fingers, on the arm that wasn’t wrapped in white gauze.

He let out a breath of relief as he looked down at her, her face apologetic and slightly embarrassed, and he shook his head immediately. She had nothing to feel bad about. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Felicity nodded, closing her eyes as he came closer and cupped her cheek. Like always, he reveled in the way she leaned into his touch. Then he turned his head towards his son, “And you’re all right?”

“Yeah dad, I’m fine.”

He could tell that William felt bad, but he wasn’t sure if it was guilt over something or if he was just worried about Felicity. Knowing that his son was a lot like him, it was probably a little bit of both. They’d be talking about  _that_ later.

Oliver’s gaze shifted to his best friend, “Thank you for bringing them.”

“Of course, Oliver,” Dig replied, “You know I’m always here for all of you.”

He nodded with a slight sigh, turning his attention back to his wife. He glanced over her arm, the bandages tainted with dull blood. He looked over the rest of her body, not seeing any other scratches. She narrowed her eyes at him, “I know that face. Oliver Jonas Queen…don’t even,” she said, dropping her head onto the pillows.

Seeing that he’d upset her, Oliver forced a smile, focusing on making sure his face gave nothing away. But she glared, already aware of his feelings. She saw through him like no one else could. 

“What is it?” William asked, stepping closer.

Felicity’s jaw was tight as she glanced at the boy, “Your dad thinks this is his fault somehow. I thought you were getting better about this,” she said, reaching up to his hand on her face, locking her fingers in his. “Please, tell me how a faulty toy plane is your fault.”

“It isn’t,” he said, clearing her throat and glancing away from her. “Not answering the phone the first time you called me was a choice, though.”

“Oliver, please.” She sighed, “How many times have you called me on your lunch break, and I’ve ignored it because I was busy? And you’ve ignored plenty of my calls before, too.” She shrugged, “it happens. You couldn’t have known.”

He just nodded, knowing that she was right but still feeling guilty for it. He couldn’t help it. She brought their hands away from her face, keeping his fingers twisted with hers, her injured arm resting on her stomach. He smiled down at her, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’ll have a new scar.” She said, “A different story than getting shot, at least.” Oliver’s eyes narrowed, and she gave him an apologetic smile, “Okay, not a good joke. But it’s fine, Oliver. The doctor should be back any minute.”

“Did they give you anything for the pain?”

“Just a painkiller. Not nearly as effective as John’s aspirins though.” She grinned.

Diggle laughed from behind them, “She wanted to go to the bunker, have me stitch her up.”

Oliver frowned, “Well how are we supposed to sue that stupid airplane manufacturer if we don’t have the medical records to prove your injury?” He asked.

Felicity rolled her eyes as John chuckled again. “That’s what Dig said, too.” She mumbled, pouting up at her partners. They both smiled down at her, remembering her refusal to go to the hospital years ago, insisting that one of them patch her up. Sara had volunteered, but Oliver would never forget how adorable she’d been, high on “John’s aspirins.”

“Mrs. Smoak?” The doctor came in, smiling at her. “I heard you had a bit of a freak accident with a control airplane?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

She huffed out a laugh, “My step-son and I were…yeah, it kind of blew up. But it wasn’t our fault. Trust me, if you knew me, you’d know that technology hardly  _ever_ fails me…but this just,” her eyes widened as she lifted her hands, “boom!”

And then she flinched, reaching for her arm. Oliver frowned, “okay?”

“Yeah,” she groaned, “just…stitches?”

“Excuse me,” the doctor said to Oliver, moving to Felicity’s side. 

As Oliver moved out of the way, the doctor took his place, “You’ll definitely need some,” he answered, “but tell me where it hurts,” he said, pushing on her arm, asking about her levels pain. 

And then he moved on to her fingers, tapping on them and making sure she still had feeling in them. “I don’t think you’ve hurt anything major,” he said, “your muscles still seem fully functional, but I’ll leave the wrap on until it’s time to stitch you up, and I’ll get a better look when it’s time to take it off. Sound good?” He asked, and Felicity nodded.

“When will you be giving her stitches?” Diggle asked.

“Just a couple more minutes, I’ll give her an anesthetic first to numb her arm, and then I’ll do the sutures.”

He smiled at Felicity before he left, and once he was gone, she sighed in relief, leaning back and closing her eyes. Oliver stood beside her bed, gripping her hand between his. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just a little lightheaded.” She said, “I wanted to pass out when it happened and I saw all the blood,” she said, her mouth turning down in disgust, “but adrenaline did its job. Thinking about stitches, though…”

“You’ll be okay,” Oliver mumbled, leaning down to kiss her hair, and she tried to smile, but he noticed how pale she was. “Felicity,” he said, “You’ve done sutures  _on_ me.”

“Yeah but this is  _my_ body.”

He breathed out a laugh, “you’ve had stitches on your own body.” He said, not exactly pleased with the reminder, but he knew her body as well as his own. He could picture the scar on her shoulder now, and the ones from Darhk’s attack.

Felicity twisted her fingers in his, pulling him down to sit on the edge of her bed. “I was high as a kite the first time, and I couldn’t see it. And I was unconscious for the others. This time it’ll be like, right there…” she said, looking down at her arm, her eyes widening.

Oliver smiled at her, shaking his head, “I’ll be right here.”

As the doctor came back in, Diggle offered to take William to the cafeteria, giving them some room.

Once the anesthetic took over, Felicity watched as he unwrapped her arm. “Huh,” she said shrugging, “it feels weird.” The doctor nodded from beside her, telling her that it was normal for the rest of her body to feel a little off. 

“It hurts?” Oliver asked, standing behind the doctor. As she moved her arm, she exposed the bottom of her shirt, and it was covered in blood that he didn’t noticed before. His stomach lurched, not because he hadn’t seen more than his fair share of blood, but because he knew it was  _hers_.

She shook her head, “No, I’m fine.” She glanced up at her husband, who was anxiously pacing behind the doctor. She cocked her head to the side, “Honey,” she said with a laugh as the doctor started her sutures, “I’m okay.”

Oliver just glanced up at her, his eyes trying to mask his concern.

The doctor chuckled, still watching what he was doing as he said, “You’d be surprised how many boyfriends I’ve seen get worked up over their  significant other’s injuries. I can always feel their tension radiating over my shoulder like I can feel yours, Mr. Queen. I promise, Felicity is going to be just fine. Nothing more than a scar.”

“I’m her husband.” Oliver breathed, his eyes focused on Felicity.

She was surprised to see the color draining from his face, “Yes, you are. Now sit,” she mumbled, shaking her head at him, her eyebrows furrowing. 

She knew that he wasn’t like most husbands. Injuries and scars were as familiar to him as his own body. Literally. He knew better than anyone that this was nothing. Sure, it wasn’t ideal, but she was going to be fine. Wasn’t he just saying that himself? But he stared at the stitches, his eyebrows pulled together in concentration, his knuckles white as he clenched his hands together.

When the doctor finally finished, Oliver’s breath of relief was bigger than Felicity’s, making her laugh. The doctor told he she was a perfect patient, and then he patted Oliver on the shoulder as he walked by, “You’re a good husband. Make sure she keeps those bandages on and doesn’t do anything too strenuous that could rip them.” He gave Felicity a serious look, warning her, too. “And be careful with those planes.”

She nodded, “Yes, sir.”

The door closed behind him, and Oliver sank onto the bed. Felicity shook her head and giggled as Oliver leaned over her, his face hovering above hers before he planted kisses all over her cheek, jaw, and forehead. “Oliver,” she finally protested, pulling back from him.

“Why was that one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to watch? You weren’t even acting like it hurt!” He laughed incredulously. “What’s wrong with me? I’ve gone soft.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, “Don’t tell me a brooding vigilante like yourself is afraid of a tiny little needle.”

“It doesn’t look so tiny.” He mumbled back under his breath, glancing down at her fresh bandages.

His wife just tilted her chin up at him, “Well, maybe you just really love me.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, “Of course I do, that’s nothing new.”

She grinned, “I think it’s sweet you were so worried. Definitely getting some husband points for all the concern.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss her lips. “You know…” he mumbled against her mouth, “certain things are going to be hard to do with you having a hurt arm.”

She groaned, lifting her good hand to grip his hair, keeping his lips on hers. “That just means you’re going to have to get creative,” she whispered.

“Mmm,” he sighed, sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, “I’m up for that challenge.”


	11. "Is that judgement I'm hearing?"

_foreverfelicityqueen asked: number 7_

_“Is that judgement I’m hearing?”  
_

_“Pride.”_

* * *

 

“You have Queen coming in at 2:00, don’t you?”

Felicity glanced up at her coworker, “Yeah,” she grunted, “Just getting a little aggression out before I have to deal with…that.”

“I told you he was a handful.”

“Paul,” Felicity sighed, “we’ve been working together for five years, we both know what a handful is. Oliver Queen is…something else entirely.”

“And what would that be, Ms. Smoak?”

Felicity and Paul both spun around as Oliver waltzed into the room, dropping his gym bag onto the floor. “Um,” she hesitated, glancing at Paul, who just made a face at her and scurried back over to the reception area. “You’re persistent, Mr. Queen.” She said, planting her feet and crossing her arms, “But you’re also…kind of scary.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows as she scrunched her nose. “I scare you, Felicity?”

“No,” she quickly replied, shaking her head, “a little. Sometimes.”

He nodded slowly, “well, why don’t we just get started then, so I can get out of your hair.”

“Oliver…that’s not what I-”

“What are we starting with?”

Felicity sighed, her face flashing with guilt. “Stretch first, then we can do a few exercises.” He nodded, sitting down on the mats and stretching his arms. She sat down in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “May I?” she asked, reaching for his shoulder. She started pushing on different areas of his arm, and he couldn’t stop the way his body relaxed under her touch. “Okay?” She mumbled, noticing his sigh but keeping her eyes focused on his arm.

“Yeah,” he grumbled, his feelings for her were a war within his own mind. And he needed to get a grip. “It just…hurts a little.”

She raised her eyebrow again, which he was realizing was her favorite form of silent judgement. “A torn rotator cuff usually hurts more than  _a little,_ Oliver.”

“I heal quickly,” he gritted out, flinching when she pushed her fingers against his muscles, causing his fist to clench in response. 

She frowned, glancing down at his hand. She never missed a damn thing, and Diggle had said she was the best. He’d learned over the past few months that she really was. “Not this time, Oliver. That’s why you’re here. And you’re not going to get any better if you don’t let me help you.”

“I am letting you help me,” he argued under his breath, contradicting it as he leaned away from her hands. She was always so gentle, healing more than just his hurt muscles…healing something deeper. But that was crazy. She was just doing her job, and he was a lonely, broken man who didn’t want to admit how much he craved someone like her.

Felicity crossed her arms with a sigh. “You never told me what happened. Maybe I could help you better if I knew how you hurt yourself.”

Oliver let out a frustrated breath as he looked at her. He couldn’t exactly tell his physical therapist that he’d been chasing a man across rooftops as the city’s vigilante when he’d fallen from a fire escape. The ladder he’d been holding on to had snapped, and he’d taken a hard hit.  _And_ the bad guy got away, which only made this whole situation even worse.

Pain killers had worked for a couple of weeks, but the pain only got worse. So Diggle had pulled some strings and gotten him a physical therapist to help. It was supposed to be some kind of “no questions asked” favor that someone owed Dig, but obviously Felicity was a bit too curious, and stubborn, for that.

Oliver had been fighting it every step of the way; taking every opportunity he had to tell Diggle how pointless the whole idea was. But he came here every week anyway…and Dig’s theory about  _why_ that was was stuck in his head.  _“You like her, man,”_  he’d said with a smug smile three nights ago,  _“you have a crush on Felicity Smoak.”_ Oliver’s response to that was to glare at him, grab his bow, and silently stomp out of the warehouse to hit the streets. 

“Okay,” she said gently, moving to stand up. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. But maybe you should look for a different therapist, Oliver. It doesn’t really feel like I’m the best fit for you.”

His eyes narrowed, his heart race picking up at the thought of not seeing her every week. “I fell. What else do you need to know?”

She held her arms out, “am I even helping you?” She asked, looking down at him. “Because you really don’t seem like you even  _want_ my help, Oliver. I don’t know who the hell could force someone like you to show up here every week, but you clearly don’t want to do any of this,” she said, gesturing to the equipment. “So maybe you need to find a therapist that you actually want to listen to.”

Oliver stood up, too. “I listen to you,” he mumbled. “I’m listening to you right now.”

“I have to fight you every week!” She yelled at him in a hushed tone. Oliver pursed his lips, knowing that she was right. “I can get you an appointment with Paul for tomorrow, or there’s another Physical Therapy center on Park Avenue.”

He reacted as soon as she turned to leave, catching her arm. “Wait, Felicity. I know that I can be…difficult. But I…I like coming here. I like seeing you, even if I don’t have the best way of showing it. No one’s forcing me to be here.” Well… _she_ was kind of the reason…He and Diggle both knew full well that he would have given up on this after one week if he’d had anyone else as his therapist. But it was helping, and he  _liked_ her.

His hand stayed on her arm, and she made no move to change that. Actually, she stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at him, trying to read him. “Really?”

“Yes,” he breathed, surprised with himself for admitting it. Out loud. To her. The smile that spread across her face made his heart heavy. The way her eyes sparked as she looked up at him made him feel  _guilty_ …

He could  _not_ let this girl get wrapped up in his life. Oliver cleared his throat, removing his hand. Spending two hours, once a week, grumbling at her while she tried to help him was one thing. That smile was something else. Something he didn’t deserve. “So, should we get started?”

As Felicity walked him through his exercises, Oliver did his best not to snap, growl, or yell. And he had the pleasure of watching her walls come down thanks to it. It was incredible to see. He’d only been getting the reserved version of her smile, the tame version of her laugh, but it was amazing how much she came out of her shell when he wasn’t being a  _total_ douche. Hearing her babble made him even more intrigued by her, yet uneasy at the same time.

He couldn’t let himself get too close.

The unrestrained, pure, beautiful energy she gave off was only further proof of that.

He shouldn’t be anywhere near this woman.

She was such an opposite from him that he didn’t even want to think about how his darkness might affect the gorgeous light that she was. “You know…” she said as she laid on the mat beside him after their workout. “you’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever worked with. You really don’t know when to quit.”

He dropped his head to the side as he caught his breath, looking at her profile until she turned her head, too. He quirked an eyebrow, “is that judgement I’m hearing?”

She smirked at him. “Pride.”

Oliver glanced back up at the ceiling. He’d hardly had anyone tell him that they were proud of him. His playboy habits were less than satisfactory for his parents, and everything that happened to him since his father’s boat went down was  _less_ than something to be proud of.

It surprised him to not just hear the sentiment, but to have it coming from a woman who barely knew him. He stood up, offering his hand to help her to her feet, using his good arm to pull her up.

She could feel the change, the tension that her one word had brought him, and she was fidgeting as soon as she got up. “I’m sorry…did I say something wrong?”

He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing. “No, no. I’ve just got to get going. I’ll see you next week.”

“Oliver-” she stopped him. “I know that it’s hard for you…it doesn’t take a genius to see that you don’t exactly have the best coping skills. But I’m here to listen…if you need that, or you want it, I mean if you could use a friend, or anything.” She let out a breath, looking like she was trying to compose herself, “I get it.” She said with a nod, looking up at him, “That pain. I understand how you feel-”

“You don’t know the first thing about my pain.” He snapped, surprising both of them with the tone that had been missing for the past two hours. It was low and menacing, more like the way he spoke to criminals than he’d ever spoken to her. The thing was that he wasn’t insulted by what she’d said…it just scared him, to think that this woman wanted to hear about his pain, wanted to get to know him. He  _couldn’t_.

Felicity’s mouth hung open, but then she closed it, blinking as she glanced away from him. “Right…” she breathed, not looking at him as she backed up. “I’m sorry. Of course not.”

He was thrown by the way her face dropped…how hurt she looked. He knew he’d been unfairly harsh with his words, but she looked crushed. 

Were those  _tears_?

“Felicity…” he blinked, stepping towards her, but she was already walking away, shaking her head at him. 

Sighing, Oliver picked up his bag, heading for the door as he kicked himself for ruining such a great day. Spending time with her was usually the highlight of his week, but today had been different. John was right. He liked her. Much more than he had any right to. It was probably for the best if she hated him and never wanted to see him again.

“Hey, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver turned, giving his attention to the man at the desk. “Yes?” He asked, trying not to snap at this guy too, to take out his left over anger on him. “Paul, right? Felicity’s partner?”

“Yeah,” he said, clapping his hands together and leaning over the desk. “And friend. And…you’re an asshole.”

Oliver hesitated, his eyebrows shooting up. “Excuse me?”

“Judging by the idiotic thing you just said to her, she hasn’t told you.” Paul narrowed his eyes, “Felicity was involved in a shooting six years ago. She was paralyzed, until my husband invented a spinal implant that helped her walk again. I know you were on an island so you missed all of those headlines, but I think she knows at least a little bit about your pain…maybe more than you realize. It took her years to get to where she is, and now she works to make chips like hers accessible to everyone  _and_ to help people going through the same thing. Like you. I have no idea why you are the way you are, but just watching you gives me whiplash. Felicity took what she experienced and the pain she felt from it and she turned it into something good. She’s using it to try to save people in this city. I think it’s  _you_ who wouldn’t know the first thing about that.”

Oliver stared at Paul for a moment, having no idea what to say, so he just nodded his head once, his jaw clenching. And then he pushed through the doors and into the parking lot.

Quickly pacing to his car, Oliver threw his bag into the backseat with unnecessary force, taking a moment to calm down before he got behind the wheel. He’d always known he could be an idiot, especially when it came to women and his judgement. Those two things just never meshed well together. But this was worse.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, slamming the back door just as the doors to the center opened, and he watched Felicity march out. Her head was down as she quickly made her way to her car. Part of him told him that this could be the end of it. Let her hate him, give it a clean break and find a therapist who didn’t make him think, for the first time in a long time, that he could be happy.

“Screw it,” he sighed to himself before jogging up to her. “Hey,” he breathed as she looked up at him. “Hi.” Her gaze was guarded, her tongue coming out between her lips as she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “Your partner told me…about what happened to you. I’m sorry…for that, and for what I said. I was a jerk. And I’m really sorry.”

Felicity sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I get the feeling you don’t say that very often.” He laughed once, shaking his head. “Okay, it’s okay Oliver. Don’t worry about it.”

“Felicity, I’m trying, and I really don’t want a different therapist. I want you.”

Her breath physically caught as her eyes darted up to his, “I imagined you saying that under different circumstances.” She blurted.

He cocked his head to the side, smiling at her. “How about… _date…_ circumstances? I mean-what if we-what if  _I…_ I know you probably hate me, but I-”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Uh, well, I’m trying to. I’m not doing a very good job at it though.” He sighed.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Coffee?” 

She watched him carefully, “When?”

“Um, now, maybe?” He stuttered.

Felicity nodded slowly, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I do love coffee.”


	12. "Maybe he thinks he penetrates just fine"

Oliver finished putting his last arrow into his last bank robber, “Dig, do you hear that?”

John nodded, glancing at him as he holstered his gun, “it’s the alarm Felicity installed in our suits. Someone’s breaking in.”

“Let’s get over there. I’ll call SCPD to come grab these guys on our way,” Oliver grumbled.

Felicity was having a girls night. Iris and Caitlin had been planning on visiting ever since the wedding, but when Cisco surprised them with Kara…the energy went from zero to one hundred in a matter of minutes.

He’d listened to their excited squeals, and he knew their plans of having a lowkey night at the bar was thrown out the window.

Judging by the texts she’d been sending him all night, Felicity was drunk.  _Very_ drunk. 

 _A_ bar had apparently turned into  _four_ , and he had a decent guess that he’d have to pick the girls up somewhere later. It was a good thing his wife was an adorable, hilarious drunk. He thought she already didn’t have a filter when it came to her babbling, but the first time he’d seen her intoxicated proved him wrong.

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he remembered how she’d kept her hand on his stomach all night, feeling his abs and whining if he tried to move. 

“What’s so funny?” His partner asked.

“Just thinking about Felicity.” Oliver muttered. To that, Dig rolled his eyes, smiling as he shook his head.

When John and Oliver got to the bunker, they slowly and quietly made their way down the stairs, not needing to communicate a thing as they heard the sound of metal clanking and hushed voices.

They glanced at each other, raising their weapons.

He heard a high pitched yelp, followed by silence. And then Felicity’s voice as she whispered, “Shhh, sh, did you guys hear that?”

Dig and Oliver exchanged another glance. As they crept through the dim bunker, Caitlin’s voice cut in, “Someone’s coming!”

“Can you make us invisible? Or disappear!?” Iris asked, louder than Felicity or Caitlin had been speaking.

John and Oliver rounded the corner just in time to see Kara crossing her arms as she stood on the training mats, looking down at Iris from where she was lying on her back on the mats, “I’m an alien, not a magician.”

Oliver’s gaze glanced up to Caitlin and Felicity, who were hanging side by side on the salmon ladder. “I don’t hear anything.” Caitlin said, glancing around the dark room, not seeing John or Oliver hidden in the shadows.

Felicity was still whispering as her legs swung, “I thought I heard the elevator moving.”

“I don’t think so,” Iris whispered back as Kara helped her to her feet. “I think we’re okay.”

“Um,” Caitlin winced, looking down at her friends.

“Kara, I think you need to get us down from here now.” Felicity giggled. 

Kara flew up to the bar they were hanging from as if it was the most normal thing in the world, scooping Felicity up in her arms and bringing her back to the ground. Then she retrieved Caitlin, setting her on her feet, too.

They were all too busy giggling to notice John and Oliver coming towards them, into the light, but Caitlin screamed when she was the first to catch sight of them. As the girls’ screeches filled the bunker, Oliver and Diggle sighed.

“What are you doing here?” Oliver asked when the noise stopped, shoving his arrow back into his quiver and lowering his bow. “I thought you were going to the bar.”

“We went to the bar,” Felicity sang, bouncing across the mats on her bare feet to reach him. Once she was a couple feet away, she tossed herself at him, trusting him to catch and steady her.

Her husband huffed as he kept her from falling over, setting his bow on the floor before she hurt herself. “We were out patrolling when the silent alarms started going off.”

Felicity winced, “Damn it,” she cursed, “I forgot about those.”

“Honey,” Oliver said, pulling back to look down at her. “I don’t like you being in here when you’re all intoxicated…that’s a recipe for disaster.”

“We’re  _fine_ , Oliver.” She said, weaseling her way back into his arms. “Now hug me.” He huffed out a laugh and kissed the top of her head. 

“There are weapons down here, Felicity. This could get dangerous really fast.”

“Oliver,” she sighed, “we’re drunk, not children.”

“Oh yeah? Then why is Iris trying to play with Curtis’ T-spheres?”

“Shit,” Diggle jumped into action, jogging across the bunker to stop Iris as she stood by the equipment, tossing the sphere up and catching it. John took it out of her hand and she frowned, “Okay, let’s just put that back,” he mumbled, shoving the sphere back into its’ drawer. Then he guided her and Kara to the couches, telling them to sit.

Caitlin walked up to Oliver and Felicity, twisting her hands behind her back and offering an awkward smile. “Hi, Oliver. Could I look at one of your arrows?” She asked, gesturing to the quiver on his back.

“Why?” He asked cautiously, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“Well, Cisco and I were just talking one day about a way to mass produce them so that you wouldn’t have to spend so much time making them yourself. We can create an algorithm that can copy the way you do it-same density, same speed, same weight, everything. It could even improve your penetration, but I’d need to analyze one.”

Oliver nodded once, “Maybe we can talk tomorrow.” He raised an eyebrow at her, knowing that handing Caitlin a sharp object after he’d just caught them drunk and hanging from the salmon ladder simply wasn’t a good idea.

“Hey,” his wife’s arms tightened around his middle, her head still on his chest. “Maybe he thinks he penetrates just fine.” Then she chuckled at her own words, hugging him even tighter, “Actually, I know he does.” She pulled back to wiggle her eyebrows at him, nudging him in the stomach with her elbow and he knew he was blushing.

“Oh, Felicity…” he groaned, not daring to even look at poor Caitlin as he shook his head at his wife. 

Felicity was already moving on to the next thing. “Oh!” She yelled, pulling away from him.

She dragged him over to the couches and pushed him down on the one across from Kara. “Watch,” Felicity mumbled to her friend, pointing a finger at Kara and raising an eyebrow.

Kara covered her mouth to keep from laughing, like she knew what was coming.

“Honey, what-” Oliver started, but then his wife sat down on his knee, and his hands lifted to her waist to keep her steady and she reached behind him. She had a tendency to be clumsy when she drank. And when she was sober.

Felicity flipped his hood over his head. “Green Arrow,” she imitated his “growly voice” as she liked to call it, usually referring to when he had the modulator on, intimidating criminals.

Then she brought the hood back down, exposing his face again. “My husband.” She leaned down to give him a quick kiss.

“Green Arrow,” she growled again, bringing his hood back up, her eyebrows creasing.

Then she threw the hood back, giggling, “My husband!” She gave him another kiss.

He was too amused to be bothered. “What are you doing?” He asked her, shaking his head.

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight and kissing his cheek. “Do you  _know_ what Kara’s secret identity is? Her  _glasses_.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kara said, “she’s been teasing me all night. But to be fair…things are a little different on my earth.” She raised her hands up in defense.

Felicity laughed more, standing up and moving to sit next to Kara, who rolled her eyes playfully. Oliver pinched his lips together, trying not to laugh as Felicity reached for Kara’s glasses.

“Kara…” she said, and then gently pulled the glasses off, “Supergirl!” She yelled.

Felicity slid them back on, “Kara…” and slipped them back off again, “Supergirl!” Oliver and Kara both chuckled at her as she sighed, handing Kara her secret identity and falling back onto the couch. “Man, wouldn’t it be cool if I could take my glasses off and become a superhero?”

Oliver raised an eyebrow at her, “first of all, don’t get any ideas. And second of all, you already are a superhero.”

The simultaneous “awww” that sounded from Felicity and Kara had him blushing and rolling his eyes at the same time.

His wife stood up and came back over to him, sitting down next to him on the couch. She rested her head on his shoulder, her hands sliding over his forearm. “Don’t worry, I love being Overwatch.” she sighed, “Wouldn’t it be cool to sleep fly, though?”


	13. "You will always be my girl, Felicity"

_that-one-writer13 asked: 8 please. I love when he told her that._

_thisamerican-psycho said:Out of context #8_

_“You will always be my girl, Felicity.”_

* * *

 

Only Felicity Smoak was capable of distracting him from work when she wasn’t even in the building. 

She’d been mad at him since the night before.

Ever since he came home with a haircut.

Apparently wives were supposed to be consulted before husbands cut their hair. But he foolishly wasn’t aware of this rule. He’d also had no idea she was so attached to his hair, so he denied all blame. It had gotten long and irritating, and he’d needed to cut it. Stopping by the barber on his way home had seemed like a great idea. Felicity didn’t agree.

Refusing to apologize for his colossal mistake only got him into deeper trouble.

Felicity’s face had dropped as soon as he’d walked through the door, making his own heart sink with worry at the look on her face. But after mumbling “what have you done?” and running her hands over his buzzed hair, she ignored him for about an hour. Then he’d cooked her dinner, and he was happily on his way to being forgiven by the time they sent William off to do his homework.

Until he tried to kiss her. He’d pressed his lips against hers and hummed, finally melting into his wife’s embrace after a long day.

And her hands had reached for his hair.

When there was nothing for her to grab on to, she’d whimpered, and her anger was restored with a low growl of disapproval into his mouth.

He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. He knew that she wasn’t  _actually_ mad at him, but his laughter fueled her resolve to keep up the charade. Besides, her disappointment was definitely real. He knew she loved his hair long, he just hadn’t been expecting her to care this much. So Felicity had spent the rest of the night turning the whole thing into a sort of game.

She’d pulled out his favorite dress she owned, hanging it up on the closet door to let him know she’d be wearing it the next day. And she’d walked around their bedroom getting ready to go to sleep, in a pair of silk shorts and a tank top, not bothering to look at him where he laid on his side of the bed.

He’d watched her patiently as she moved around the room, not saying a word. Finally, set her hands on her hips and glanced at the dress, turning to him with a slight frown. “You know, I love this dress. But I really can’t wear it with underwear underneath.” And then she’d shrugged and gone to take a shower.

When Oliver had followed her in, casually brushing his teeth and praying for an invitation, she’d pulled the curtain back, giving him a gorgeous view of her body and smiling at him, “can you pass me my shampoo?”

She was killing him, and her antics had continued all morning. After William left for school, Oliver had come up behind her while she made toast in the kitchen, running his hands over her hips and groaning because she wasn’t kidding about the underwear. “How long are you going to be upset with me? I promise not to cut my hair again unless you say so. But you’ll regret it, you should have seen my hair when I was on the island.  _No one_ enjoyed that. Not my best look,” he scrunched up his nose, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, “I’ll even let you cut it for me.”

“Now we’re talking,” she’d said, twisting in his arms and smiling up at him.

“So I’m forgiven?”

“No.”

Felicity had brought her mouth to his, just barely nipping at his bottom lip and pulling back when he tried to kiss her. “When?” He’d practically growled.

And Felicity had smirked, knowing exactly what she was doing and loving it, “your hair grows back fast, right? We can talk when I have something to hold on to again.”

So now he sat at his desk with stacks of paperwork, and all he could think about was his wife in her office, wearing that dress, without panties…and some very vivid images of her having something to hold on to.

There were a few things he knew Felicity couldn’t resist though, and if she wanted to tease him, he was prepared to tease right back.

Maybe he’d have to get a workout in on the roof of the apartment building tonight. Shirtless and sweaty was her weakness. He had far too many memories of half-finished circuits because Felicity had come into the bunker while he was trying to work out. And he’d learned to leave for his runs on the weekends an extra forty-five minutes early, needing time to dedicate to Felicity  _before_ he had a chance to shower. Oh yeah, he could use that to get her to see his perspective here.

And now his head was drifting to other things…

“Mr. Queen,” his secretary opened the door and stuck her head in. “Your wife is here to see you.”

Oliver shot up out of his seat way too fast, “Yes! Fantastic!” When his secretary gave him a strange look, he cleared his throat and straightened his tie, “Uh, send her in, please. Thank you, Hannah.”

His secretary nodded before going back to her desk, leaving the door open, and he could see Felicity coming towards his office, that damn dress hugging her and reminding him why he loved it so much.

He pressed his palms on his desk and smirked at her as she came in, shutting the door behind her. “Not satisfied with the way we left things this morning?” He asked.

Felicity pursed her lips, coming around his desk. He fought the urge to fall back in his chair and pull her onto his lap like he usually did. Instead, he let her slide onto the edge of his desk, perching herself on the corner. Her leg touched his hand, and he lifted it to rest his palm on her thigh. Felicity grinned as his fingers wrapped around it and squeezed. 

Okay, he was really bad at this game. 

“I just thought I’d come see if you wanted to get lunch.” She said innocently, pulling his hand away from her skin and lacing her fingers through his. She brought his hand up to her mouth, kissing his knuckles and glancing up at him, her eyes taunting and sexy as hell.

Oliver stared at her. Slowly stepping so he stood in front of her, he dropped her hand and placed his palms on the desk on either side of her. He held her gaze, leaning close to her face and watching as her eyes sparked with interest, amused that he was finally taking her bait. “You can’t keep this up forever, Smoak. I’m irresistible. Even with short hair.”

His wife smiled as she raised an eyebrow, her hands instinctively coming up to his face, her hands scratching through his beard. “You’re full of yourself. Haven’t you learned not to bet against me?”

“It’s not a bet, honey. You love me just as much as I love you. And you want me as much as I  _always_ want you. We both know this isn’t going to last until my hair grows back.”

Felicity bit her lip, her eyes dancing playfully with his. God, he loved her. Would this ever  _not_ be fun? “Fine,” she finally droned, a smile spreading across her perfect face. “You’re probably right. But I think I can make it a little longer than this.” She teased.

Her fingers skated into his hair, her eyes tracking the movement, and he sighed.

The knock on the door made her drop her hands as she twisted around, but Oliver stayed where he was, just tilting his head around Felicity as Hannah opened the door. “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Queen,” his secretary said, “I have your schedule for the afternoon. Three meetings and a conference call with Star City Bank to discuss the Cayden James damage.”

Oliver winced, and Hannah made a sympathetic sound in response. “I’m sorry, Mr. Queen. I blocked out some time so you can pick up William from school today, though.” Then she gave him a frown, “You’ll just have to come back after for a meeting with the council.”

He sighed, “It’s okay, Hannah. Not your fault. What time is the first meeting?”

She smiled brightly, “The board will be here in about half an hour. Can I get you anything else? Cup of coffee?” 

“No,” Oliver said through another sigh, “Thank you, Hannah. You’re the best.”

Hannah’s smile widened, and she winked. “I’m your girl, Mr. Mayor. Call in if you need me.”

Felicity lifted her hand in a wave as Hannah closed the door again. 

Of course, it shouldn’t be surprising that his secretary brings him coffee…not that  _she_ had ever done it when they’d had to use his EA position as their cover. God, no.

Spinning back around, Felicity grabbed Oliver’s face and crushed her lips to his. She kissed him fully, enjoying the way he only hesitated for a moment in surprise before he was kissing her back, sucking at her bottom lip like he loved to do. He let out a soft noise of contentment, and she hummed back. Felicity tossed her arms around his neck, arching her back and pressing her chest against his. “Honey…” he groaned, not bothering to stop kissing her as he spoke. “You heard Hannah, and I  _cannot_ do the things I want to do to you in just thirty minutes.”

She just kissed him harder, sliding her body closer until he was between her legs, his hands falling to her waist. “Felicity,” he whispered, smiling against her mouth. He pulled back slightly, “What is this? What happened to ‘I can make it a little longer than this’, what happened to ‘we’ll talk once I have something to hold on to again?’”

“Changed my mind,” she rasped, grabbing his face again and dragging him towards her.

He kissed her for another minute before he reared back, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at her. “What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing.”

Oliver eyed her suspiciously. “Hmm,” he hummed, moving his hands up her ribs and sliding them over her back. He gripped his fingers into the soft material of her dress, “I don’t believe you. But I have to get some things together before this meeting, so don’t think I’m going to forget about this look on your face,” he said, using his index finger to point at her eyebrows, “you’re doing that thing crinkly with your eyebrows.”

“I think your secretary has a crush on you.” She breathed.

Her husband quirked an eyebrow, “you’re making out with me because you think Hannah likes me and you’re jealous?”

“Don’t be silly,” she said, waving him off, “I’m making out with you because you’re my husband and you’re really hot. And I love you.”

He smirked, understanding lighting his face. “And because my secretary just called herself my girl.”

Felicity straightened her shoulders, glancing down at her hands as she fixed his tie, “I’m your girl.”

“Oh, honey,” he leaned forward, pressing a few kisses to her cheek, “of course you are. The coffee you brought me that one time was way better than Hannah’s, anyway.”

She glared at him, his voice thick with teasing. Pushing him back as she rolled her eyes, Felicity slid off his desk, “sometimes it’s like you never want to have sex again.”

“I’m kidding!” He let out a breathy laugh as she picked up her purse. Oliver caught her hand and turned her back around, pulling her into his arms with a huff. “Are you actually worried about my secretary?”

“No,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes again even if he couldn’t see it.

“Good,” he squeezed her shoulders, swaying with her side to side, “you better not be, because you’re all I want, Felicity.” He spoke softly, his lips grazing her temple and sending a shiver down her spine.

“I know,” she sighed, closing her eyes as she breathed in the familiar scent of him on his shirt. “Same here.” He swayed back and forth a few more times until she groaned, “I should go.” She said, but she held him a little tighter, her arms wrapped around his middle.

Felicity tilted her chin, looking up at his face, and he glanced down long enough to smile at her before he kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll see you at home,” she murmured against his lips.

Oliver pulled back enough so he could see her face, adjusting the strap of her purse on his shoulder. “Hey…” he said quietly, and her eyes softened, as they always did, at the gentle tone. “You will always be my girl, Felicity.” He promised, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose.

Felicity beamed up at him, gracing him with an adorable wink. “And don’t you forget it.”


	14. "A blonde who likes leather"

_instrumentallyyours asked: Omg number 1 plssss_

_Anonymous said: 1 please please please please!!!_

_Anonymous said: 1 and 2 mixed??_

_“I’m looking for someone. A blonde who likes leather.” “_

_Sounds like your type.”_

_(and a bonus “God, you’re really sweaty” just for fun)_

* * *

 

Evening runs were always the best way to clear his head. Ivy League campuses were also perfectly empty at night. All of the students at Columbia were either in their dorm rooms studying or in the library studying. Oliver didn’t care for either. His parents had insisted that he come, but that didn’t mean he had to actively try to  _stay_ here. 

His headphones were in, blocking out the city sounds, and his head was back in Starling. Tommy had gotten lucky and somehow convinced his father that he needed to defer college for a year. So his best friend was probably partying at Verdant. 

Oliver had been at Columbia for two weeks, and he had yet to find a single student who cared about a decent party scene. He was actually pretty sure that parties didn’t exist here, because he definitely would have found one by now. 

It was torture. What was the point of going to college if he wasn’t going to experience the whole thing? He’d gone to three of his classes so far, and he’d even read the first chapter of Hamlet out of boredom…he deserved to let loose.

Not paying attention and not used to seeing anyone on campus past 8:00pm, Oliver didn’t notice the girl coming out of the financial building. And he crashed into her, his momentum knocking them both to the ground. 

She screamed, and he did his best to wrap his arms around her and cushion her fall as he landed on top of her. He groaned as he opened his eyes, and then he raised his eyebrows. The blonde beneath him was dressed in black leather, including a mask over her face. 

He grinned, “Well you’re the most interesting thing I’ve seen since I got here.”

“God, you’re really sweaty.” She groaned back.

Oliver didn’t move, “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I will be once you get off of me.”

He sighed, standing up and reaching out for her hands, helping her to her feet. “I  _am_ sorry,” he said, “I usually don’t see a single soul out here when I run at night.”

She started backing up as soon as she pulled her hands away from his, “Whatever, just…watch where you’re going.”

Raising his eyebrows at her, he took a step in her direction, “You’re not going to tell me what all the leather is about?”

“Nope,” she said, cocking her head to the side and grinning. 

Oh, he had to know. “I assume that’s a no on getting your name then.”

She shook her head, “ _hard_ no.”

“Come on, if there’s some kinky, leather-only club on this campus, I  _have_ to know,” he gave her his best flirtatious smile as he looked her up and down.

The girl chuckled, “I’ll let you know if I find one.” And then she turned on her heels and walked into the shadows. He had an impulse to follow her, but thought better of it. 

There was no way he would forget about this, though. He had to figure out who she was.

* * *

Oliver couldn’t stop thinking about that night or the girl for the next week. He even went to all of his classes, just hoping he’d see a head a blonde hair that looked familiar. 

After a week with no hints as to who the girl was, Oliver started to doubt that he’d ever figure it out.

On Friday his roommate came in and tossed the school newspaper on his chest as he laid in bed. “You seen this?” He asked. 

Oliver narrowed his eyes as he read the front page, detailing a story about a break-in at the finance building. Someone had hacked into a handful of student records and forgiven their debts. Athletes who had been here on scholarships and lost it due to injuries. Kids who couldn’t get the financial aid they needed to continue going to an Ivy League school. Students who’d gotten screwed over. And it apparently wasn’t the first time something like this had happened at Columbia.

He smiled, this had the blonde written all over it. 

“Do they have any idea who did it?”

His roommate shrugged, “Nope. My money’s on that liberal hacktivist group thought.”

“A what group?”

“Hacktivists.” Palmer sighed, “They call themselves Helix. The administration has no idea that they even exist, but they dress up like it’s Halloween and pull stuff like this all the time.”

“How do you know about them?”

Ray shrugged, “They tried to recruit me orientation weekend.”

“Do you know anyone’s name that’s in the group?”

His roommate leveled him with a look. “I might not have been interested in going to prison with those people, but I’m not a narc. They’re actually doing a lot of good.”

Oliver just shrugged, “I’m not trying to get them in trouble.”

Ray exhaled, leaning back in his chair, “I got an invitation for this online group. They have you break an encryption code, and then I guess you’re in. It was actually really cool, but I didn’t even attempt it. You had to break through a firewall and-”  

“Palmer.”

“Right. Well, they never gave their names. But I’d start with Felicity Smoak. I’d bet my family’s fortune that she’s a part of it. Kind of makes me wish I’d accepted their invitation, actually.” He frowned.

“Who is Felicity Smoak?” Oliver asked.

“She’s this badass goth who’s in like, all of my classes. I keep asking her out,” Ray sighed, “she keeps saying no.” 

Oliver grinned, a goth with an aversion to preppy rich boys? So far she sounded just like his late night run-in. 

“Where can I find Felicity Smoak?”

“I think she lives in the dorm next to ours. But she’s also in the computer lab a lot. I may have pinged her phone.”

Oliver got up, putting his shoes on and heading for the door. “Thanks, Ray.” He backed up, pointing a finger at his roommate, “and stop pinging girls’ phones. It’s weird.”

Ray nodded once, “Right.”

* * *

He actually felt nervous as he knocked on her door. But it swung open before he could take it back. The tiny dark haired girl that glared up at him was not what he was expecting. “What are you doing here?” She snapped.

Oliver gaped, dropping his hand to his side, feeling disappointed. He probably should have known that he wouldn’t find a tall blonde dressed in black leather opening the door…“I’m sorry…” he said, meeting Felicity’s glare, “do we know each other?”

Her eyes widened, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “No. You just must be lost. The fraternities are at Syracuse, not Columbia.” She sassed, regaining her composure as her features hardened.

He stared at her. He’d never actually met anyone who disliked him so much upon their first encounter. Especially college girls. He was certain he would have recognized her if she was in one of his classes, or he’d pissed her off in some way before.

The dark hair and eye makeup usually wasn’t what he went for…but he recognized beauty when he saw it. 

And she was gorgeous. 

He had a feeling she was gorgeous with or without all the black make up. Just like the blonde. Oliver cleared his throat, “I was hoping you could help me. I think you might know a friend of mine.”

She cocked her head to the side, and Oliver narrowed his eyes at her, the move was distinctly familiar. His heart started to race as he cursed himself for being such an idiot. She might have been wearing a mask, and apparently a wig, but he still should have recognized her.

“I’m looking for someone.” He smirked, “A blonde who likes leather.”

She smiled back, raising an eyebrow with amusement. “Sounds like your type.”

Oh yes, that confident grin was definitely the one he hadn’t been able to get out of his head all week. “Yeah, she definitely left an impression. So…would you mind helping me track her down, Felicity?” He said her name with new appreciation.

She pinched her lips together as she thought, “What makes you think I would be able to help you?”

“Oh, my roommate is Ray Palmer. He told me all about you. Genius, gorgeous hacker and all.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. And he caught an adorable blush rising on her neck. “Palmer.”

Oliver couldn’t help but smile, completely charmed by her. “Will you help?”

Felicity fidgeted, leaning against her door frame, “And…what do you want with this blonde in leather?”

“A date.” He answered immediately.

Her eyebrows shot up, “Um…oh…okay…well, I can look into it and get back to you.” She stepped back, moving to close her door, but he caught it.

Oliver ran his index finger over her hand, where she had a few light scratches on her skin. “Did you fall, Felicity?” He mumbled, meeting her eyes.

She stared back at him with wide eyes, “What? No.”

He grinned, “Relax, your secret’s safe with me.”

Now her eyes narrowed, “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

“Well, yes. And I also think you’re cute. So two cute people who have exciting chemistry like ours should at least go on a date.”

“We do  _not_ have chemistry,” she hissed.

“Yes, we do.” He insisted.

She licked her lips, her pink tongue contrasting the dark lipstick she wore and Oliver watched in pure appreciation. “No,” she replied, “we don’t.”

“Go out with me,” he said, smiling crookedly at her.

“What?” Her eyes darted up to his, her expression amused as she pursed her lips, trying not to smile, to keep up her tough act…but he could see through it. 

She was  _sweet_. 

“No,” she finally whispered, in the most unconvincing tone he’d ever heard.

“Go out with me,” he mumbled again, taking a step closer.

She didn’t move away, “has your roommate been giving you pointers on how to ask a girl out?”

He laughed, “Fine, I see your point. I’ll ask you one more time…nicely…and if you say no, I’ll leave you alone.”

Felicity raised her chin, her eyes dancing with his, fireworks sparking between them that he knew she  _had_ to be feeling too. “Felicity Smoak…would you like to go on a date with me tonight?”

She sighed, resting her head against her door and narrowing her eyes at him as he held his breath, waiting. “You’re not going to tell anyone about my nightly activities?”

He shook his head adamantly, “Hell, I wouldn’t mind helping you with your nightly activities.” She smirked, and he felt his face getting red. “I didn’t mean that to sound sexual.”

She shook her head in amusement. “Fine. One date.”

Oliver grinned down at her, “We’ll see.”


	15. "You're really cute when you're mopey"

_trueromantic1 asked: #17 for the S2 sentence prompts please!_

_“You’re really cute when you’re mopey.”  
_

_“I’m not mopey.”_

* * *

 

Felicity leaned towards her screen as she typed, clenching her jaw because she felt Oliver and John leaning in, too. They stood over each of her shoulders. Hovering. She pushed her shoulders back, rolling her neck in an attempt to relax. Everything felt stiff and she was really trying not to blow up on the boys.

She felt Oliver’s fingers slide up her back and begin massaging her neck as she typed, like he knew exactly what she was feeling and this was his apology. It worked perfectly, and some of the tension left her body with a groan.

“It looks like Dragon’s men meet up at Star City Motel.” She mumbled, her eyebrows furrowing. “Every Thursday night at 9:00. The aliases they rent the room under each week match some of the names we’ve been compiling. I can’t tell much more than that, but this definitely has something to do with Diaz.”

Oliver nodded, “Good work. Now we just have to figure out what they’re up to.”

Felicity lifted her hand, placing it over his where it rested on her shoulder, “There’s no security cameras outside the motel or in the halls. It’s probably why they chose the place, but not very helpful for us. Unfortunately there’s no way for me to find out…”

Diggle crossed his arms as he leaned back, “Looks like we’ll have to do some recon.”

“Today’s Thursday,” Oliver said with a frown, glancing down at his wife. He was thinking the same thing she was; they had a date. A date that they’d already cancelled twice in the last two weeks to chase down Richard Dragon leads.

John told them that Lyla was home and he couldn’t cancel their family time unless he wanted to end up divorced.

Oliver brushed him off, “I should be fine. I’ll just see what’s going on there tonight and I’m sure we can deal with the rest of it tomorrow.”

“Call me if you need any back-up.” Dig said before leaving.

Felicity tapped her fingers across the keyboard as the men spoke, “I just got you a room across the yard from the room Diaz’s men use, you should be able to have a visual from there.” She explained, waving to John as he headed home. “And I can set you up with some audio equipment…but it’s a little difficult to use…you might need some help.”

“You didn’t have to get a room, Felicity.”

“Well,” she started, “I just figured you might be more comfortable there than in the bushes. Who knows how long this will take. And it’ll be easier to spy on them if we have access to their conversation. But the audio device is from Star Labs and we haven’t had a reason to use it yet or even a chance to test it. I think I should help.”

Oliver cocked his head to the side as he looked down at her, “You want to come?” 

Felicity wiggled in her chair, nodding excitedly as she bit her lip. “Yeah, baby! Laptops are portable and motels have wifi. You’ll need my help if we want to listen in on the room. Stakeout!” She exclaimed.

He chuckled, “It’s not a stakeout, it’s recon.”

She frowned, “I want to call it a stakeout.”

He just shook his head, smiling, “All right, we’ll call it a stakeout.”

She was practically bouncing in her chair, “I’ve been waiting six years on this team to have a stakeout! It’s like, one of the main reasons I joined up with you two in the first place.” Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed, and Felicity backtracked, her hand darting out to grab his arm, “I mean, and your super noble mission to save the city…and your abs, of course.” She did a little dance as she smiled up at him, “But also stakeouts!”

Oliver leaned down to kiss her forehead, “you know they’re incredibly boring, right? All you do is sit and stare. Quietly. It’s all of your least favorite things.”

Felicity frowned as he pulled back, “honey. Come on,” she groaned, “John and Lyla get to be badass secret spies with A.R.G.U.S. I want to go on a super cool mission with my husband. Let me have this.”

Oliver chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender, “All right. I mean, we do have code names though so I think we’re pretty badass, too.”

“Good point.”

* * *

Oliver couldn’t help but laugh as he watched Felicity, perched in the dark motel room, wearing all black with binoculars to her face as she stared out of the window.

They’d gone home before coming to the motel, where she’d changed into the outfit and he’d smirked at her choice. She was taking this very seriously, dark eye makeup and all. 

He’d watched as she maneuvered around Raisa, who was trying to make dinner in the kitchen. Felicity made them each a to-go cup filled with the strongest coffee he’d ever tasted. Then she packed a bag full of everything she associated with stakeouts. So aside from the tech she needed, it was just a duffel bag full of snacks.

“Felicity…” he started, “it’s only 7:30. They won’t be here until 9:00.”

“I know.” She whispered back as if they had to quiet. They really didn’t, but he thought it was adorable anyway. “I’m just seeing if any of Diaz’s men show up early.”

Oliver sighed, shaking his head. He came up behind her and put his hands over her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs against the knots in her back. She groaned as she always does, dropping the binoculars into her lap and leaning back against him.

That was more like it.

As he gently massaged her back, he bent down, pressing his mouth to her cheek, trailing his lips along her jaw and down her neck. Her head lulled against his chest, giving him better access and he moaned, appreciating the way she melted into him. “I have a bottle of champagne,” he mumbled into her neck.

She sighed, “you brought champagne to our stakeout?”

He nodded, grinning into her neck, “We have some time to kill.”

“Are you trying to turn our secret mission into a hookup in a motel room?”

“Is it working?” he whispered, his fingers gliding down her arms. He felt her shiver, and he rubbed his nose against her skin, pretty sure that it was.

“Sam Armand,” Felicity breathed.

“What?” he asked, his head snapping up to the window.

She pointed, and sure enough, Oliver saw Star City’s District Attorney just as he was drawing the curtains of Dragon’s motel room. “What is he doing here?” Oliver growled, because clearly it wasn’t anything good.

Felicity was already on her iPad, holding up the little satellite looking device that they were supposed to be able to hear with. She shook her head, “I lost the signal. He must be blocking it somehow. It’ll take me a minute to get it back.”

“Was anyone else with him?” Oliver asked.

“I don’t think so, I only saw Armand. I don’t know, you were  _distracting_ me!”

“We’re still supposed to have over an hour!” He defended himself.

She pointed a finger at him, “ _you_ are not a good stakeout partner!”

Oliver sighed, “see if you can get the signal back. I’m going to get a closer look,” he grumbled, reaching into his pocket for his mask.

Felicity put her ear piece in as Oliver climbed out of the window and stalked across the lawn towards Armand’s room. She worked on getting the signal back and kept an eye on Oliver through the window at the same time. She could see Armand’s shadow in the room, but his was the only one.

She nodded once, glancing at Oliver as he crouched in the bushes, watching the same thing. “Any luck?” Oliver asked in her ear.

“Not yet,” she answered. “Is Armand alone?”

“Yeah,” Oliver mumbled, “But he’s leaving.”

“To go where?”

“No idea. I’ve got to get in there though.” Without another word, she watched as Oliver broke the lock to the window and climbed into Armand’s room. “He’ll be back,” Oliver filled her in, “he left paperwork all over the room…Felicity,” he mumbled after a moment of silence, “he’s meeting with someone about my trial. Probably Diaz.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing on the window. “What does he have on you?”

Before Oliver could answer, there was a knock on her door. She hurried over to it, looking through the peephole and feeling her heart drop. Felicity slapped her hand over her mouth as a tiny yelp escaped her. “He’s here,” she hissed as quietly as she could.

“What?” Oliver snapped, and she saw him pull back the curtain and look into her room. 

“What do I do?” she panicked, pacing around the room as Armand knocked again.

“Ignore it.” Oliver sighed, dropping the curtain and turning back to the files.

Felicity groaned, having a different idea. She quickly shoved all of the equipment back into her duffel bag and zipped it up. Then she glanced around the room for anything else that might look suspicious. Looking down at herself, she rolled her eyes at the black pants, black shirt, and black hat she’d chosen to wear. 

_Real subtle._

She stripped off the clothes as Armand knocked again, shoving those into the bag too. “Uh, one second!” She called.

“What are you doing?” Oliver grumbled in her ear.

“Buying you time,” she whispered back.

In her underwear, she panicked even more, running for the bathroom and grabbing a towel. Oliver cursed her in ear. 

She wrapped the towel around herself and tugged the elastic out of her hair as she hurried to the door. Swinging it open, she caught her breath, staring up at Sam Armand.

His eyes widened, “Mrs. Smoak? What are you doing here?”

She tried her best to relax, “I was about to take a shower. I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else…but uh, it’s nice to see you Mr. Armand.”

He eyed her suspiciously, “Is your husband here as well?” he asked, glancing over her shoulder and into the room.

“Oh, no,” she breathed, “he’s not…he’s at home. This is where I…” Felicity hesitated, pinching her lips together and cocking her head to the side, “look, Mr. Armand, I meet my lover here every Thursday evening.” She had to stop herself from cringing at the word  _lover_. Because gross. “I was just about to shower while I wait for him. I trust that…this little incident will stay between us.”

“Felicity,” Oliver growled in her ear and she narrowed her eyes up at Armand.

Sam glanced her up and down, and then he looked into the motel room, wariness written all over his face. Luckily for her, all he could see in the room was a duffel bag on the floor and a bottle of champagne on the nightstand. 

_Yeah, that fit._

She sighed in relief as he shrugged, seeming to believe her story despite the impeccable coincidence that he was meeting with someone, probably Dragon, about her husband’s trial just a few rooms away. “So,” she quipped, “what brings you to my door? My room. Here.”

“My wifi was terrible all of a sudden. The network showed that this room was the problem.”

She stiffened, thinking he knew she’d been trying to hack him. But she chose to laugh, however nervous it came out. “Oh, well, you know me. Wifi junkie over here. I may have found a way to suck up all the internet from the other rooms,” she rolled her eyes, “My uh…lover is a big Netflix fan and he hates when the connection is spotty. Sorry about that. I’ll fix it.”

“Okay…” Armand replied slowly, “thanks.”

“I’m almost done,” Oliver interjected lowly in her ear, “he left his laptop and I’m downloading everything he has onto a hard drive.”

Armand was turning to leave, and Felicity grabbed his arm, “Wait!” she yelled, way too dramatically. “Uh…maybe you could call me sometime,” she blurted, having absolutely no idea how else to stall. “You know…when I’m not with my husband or my lover.”

He cocked his head to the side, glancing at his watch. “Sure.”

“Sure?” her eyebrows shot up, “I mean, yeah, sure. Sure.” She nodded quickly, her hand gripping tighter on the towel at her chest.

“Felicity,” Oliver sighed in her ear, “let him go. I only need one more minute. I’ll be out by the time he gets back here.”

“Okay!” Felicity yelped in relief. “Well, see you later!” She moved to close the door, but Armand caught it with his hand, stopping her. And she froze, meeting his curious gaze.

“Are you going to give me your number?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, challenging her.

Felicity snorted, rolling her eyes at herself. “Of course, silly me.” She rattled off her phone number in a long breath, and he just nodded. “Do you need to write that down or something?”

Armand just shrugged, tapping his finger against his temple.

She laughed, “All right then, well I’m going to take that shower…before I cheat on my husband…all over this motel room. Sex all up in here, you know. So much adulterous sex.” Felicity cringed, “Okay, well, call me. Bye!” She swung the door shut quickly, popping onto the balls of her feet to look out of the peephole and see Armand in the hallway outside.

He hesitated for a moment after the door slammed in his face, smiling and shaking his head before heading off towards his room. Felicity sighed in relief as she watched him retreat, mumbling, “he’s on his way back now,” to Oliver.

“We’re clear,” her husband answered, his voice right behind her.

Felicity startled, gasping as her grip on the towel slipped a few inches, revealing her bra, before she caught it. She took a deep breath, “you didn’t have to sneak back in here,”

“Why are you naked?” He asked.

She huffed, heading for her bag. She dropped the towel and pulled her clothes back on. “Because,” she explained as she stepped into her pants, “I thought my all black ninja outfit might be suspicious.”

He just nodded, holding up the thumb drive. “We can go. He’s here to meet Diaz. It’s in his schedule.”

“Shouldn’t we wait and listen?”

Oliver shook his head, “Everything they have on me is on this hard drive. He’s here to catch Diaz up on all of it. Armand is incredibly thorough, it’s why this took so long. But now we have everything he’s planning and hopefully he has no idea.”

“He definitely seemed to buy my story.” Felicity said, raising her eyebrows as she tied up her hair again.

“Let’s get going,” he mumbled.

Felicity just smirked at him, reading his brooding attitude perfectly, and it had nothing to do with Richard Dragon. “you’re really cute when you’re mopey.”

“I’m not mopey.” He objected.

“You are. You’re mopey about a fake affair.”

Oliver just stared at her, “I don’t like that the DA now thinks the Mayor’s wife cheats on him.”

Felicity wrapped her arms around his middle, cuddling into the leather that had somehow become comfortable over the years. Familiar. “The DA is in Dragon’s pocket. If they’re working together, I think we have bigger problems than your wife’s fake infidelity.”

He laughed once, nodding as he looked down at her, “you’re right. But we’re in a better spot against Diaz than we’ve been in six months. So…I guess there’s no reason to mope.”

“Mmm,” she agreed, tilting her head up and looking at his lips. He obliged, knowing exactly what she wanted. Oliver bowed his head to kiss her, exhaling as he finally relaxed. They were both fine. “Damn right.” She grinned as she pulled back, “now let’s go see what we’re working with.”

“We might finally have an advantage against Diaz.”

Felicity nodded, “I know, and you have to admit, my cover was pretty convincing. I don’t think Armand is on to us.”

“You got me enough time to download everything…so I’m happy. But if Armand tries to call you, I’m going to break at least six of his fingers.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him. And Oliver lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against her ring.


	16. "Go to hell"

_anonymous  asked: #14 please? I live for angsty Olicity jsksks_

_“Go to hell.”  
_

_“All in good time, I’m sure.”_

Darhk’s hand isn’t around her neck. It’s not. But it feels like it is. Felicity can see his open fist in front of her, her eyes blurring with tears as she tries to take in a breath of the chilling breeze that blows her hair around. “Please,” she manages to wheeze out.

Damien cocks his head to the side, as if he’s considering her plea, but then she sees his fist tighten. A moment later, her neck feels the intention, her throat collapsing on itself and her nails clawing at the fingers she can feel around her neck but aren’t really there. Her mind is too panicked and instinctive to rationalize that it’s a pointless fight, and she scratches her own skin instead, drawing blood. Her legs hang over the railing, kicking wildly for purchase and finding none.

His laughter combines with her sobs, and somehow her stubbornness is enough to silence her own cries, not wanting to give him the amusement he so clearly is getting. She grits her teeth instead as she begins to see black spots taking over her vision. Lifting her chin, Felicity keeps her eyes on Damien Darhk.

“Go to hell,” she chokes.

She’s satisfied to see his face drop, his laughter immediately halting. Darhk raised his eyebrows, nodding. “All in good time, I’m sure.” He says with a shrug. “I’m sorry that mine is the last face you have to see. Your husband and son will miss you…I’ll let them know you said goodbye.”

The next thing she knows, she’s falling. The pressure around her neck is lifted as Darhk releases his hold on her.

Felicity has a moment of relief, she can breathe again, but it’s short lived. She manages to take in a couple of deep breaths before she hits the river, before the impact and the shock of the freezing water overtake her senses and her world goes as dark as the water swirls around her face.

Above her, Oliver is catching up to the scene just in time to see her fall. “No!” He screams, catching Darhk’s attention. He races towards the railing, only seeing tiny ripples coursing through the river where his wife had landed.

Damien snaps his fingers sarcastically, “Damn,” he sighs, fake sympathy thick in his voice, “ _just_ missed her. You know…Oliver, I must say, your timing is significantly sad.”

Oliver turns to glare at Darhk, “I  _will_ kill you.”

“Oh Oliver,” Damien groans as if he doesn’t believe it. But Oliver does…he knows it with complete certainty. “I’ll give you some time to grieve.” The man disappears as silently and as quickly as he’d arrived to take Felicity, appearing in their apartment without  _any_ warning, because he should have been dead already. 

Darhk was the last threat that Oliver was prepared for, which made the sting of it so much sharper.

With the threat of Darhk gone, for now, Oliver’s heart fills with an overwhelming weight. His body and instincts act before his head can catch up, and suddenly he’s dropping his bow. He pulls off his quiver too, and then he’s climbing over the railing.

Oliver takes a deep breath, and dives in head first after her.

* * *

As Felicity starts to wake up, the first thing she’s aware of is the smell of coffee and pancakes. It fills her nose, as does the familiar sounds of her home. 

Their home.

Like so many mornings before, she can hear noises coming from the kitchen as her husband and son make breakfast.

She knows that William must have gotten out of bed before his father, because she can hear pop music filling the apartment. If she woke up to jazz, she knew Oliver had commandeered the kitchen first. She also knows that since she can hear pop music, breakfast won’t be  _quite_ as good. William is still learning to cook, and his father is a wonderful teacher, but most of his attempts come out a little burnt. Not that she cares, she loves both of her boys’ cooking.

Plus they both know how to make her coffee right, which is the most essential thing. She moves to sit up, and her body objects, her muscles aching and her head pounding. She groans, rolling over with a deep breath. “Oh,” she yelps, seeing Oliver beside her.

He’s asleep, lying on his side with his hand outstretched towards her waist as if he’d been holding her before she wiggled out of his arms in her sleep. The first thing she sees though are his injuries.

Her husband is pretty banged up. His hands and arms are littered with scrapes and bruises, and his  _face_ …she frowns as she analyzes his features. It is her favorite face in the world, and her heart clenches at how hurt it is. He has a deep gash on his eyebrow, a bruised eye that makes her wonder if it’s swollen shut, and a busted lower lip, right over her favorite spot to kiss.

Felicity’s hand reaches out to touch his cheek as she tries to nestle her way back into his arms. Her fingers are light as feathers, grazing one of the only areas on his face that doesn’t have a scratch or a bruise. And Oliver jolts awake anyway, making her jump. 

He’d become a fairly heavy sleeper ever since they got back together…as if being married to her gave him some peace.

She  _used_ to be familiar with the nightmares and jolts, but not lately. “I’m sorry!” She blurts as she watches his eyes widen, darting around the room. Her hand recoils at his reaction, seeing his instincts take over, looking for a threat.

“Hey. Felicity?” He gasps, “You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” Felicity nods, biting her lip. “I’m surprised you’re still in bed,” she teases, sliding her fingertips over his chest, knowing that he hardly ever sleeps in. He’s usually up with the sun and has to come back into their room a few hours later to drag her out of bed. “Are you okay?”

Her husband sighs, pulling her tighter into his arms, “I am now. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

Felicity’s eyebrows furrow, “why? What do you mean?”

She sees the pain in his eyes, the brokenness, and it makes her heart race wildly. “What’s wrong?” She panics.

He glances down at her, his eyes searching, and she reaches up to touch his chin. Finally, he shakes his head. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Felicity frowns, realizing that she isn’t sure. She’d woken up like every other morning, thoughts and familiarity of her husband and son filling her hazy head. “I…” She tries to think back to the night before, but she comes up blank. “I don’t know…”

“Damien Darhk came, Felicity. And he took you away…he took you from us…and I was too late to save you.”

“But Oliver…I’m right here.”

“You’re not,” he mumbles, so quiet that she’s not even sure she heard it. His eyes meet hers evenly, begging her to understand. “I was too late, Felicity. You…Damien dropped you and you…I couldn’t save you. And I am so sorry.” His voice breaks, and he squeezes his eyes shut, tears slipping down his cheeks.

She doesn’t understand what he’s trying to say, and she can’t form any coherent questions that would get her a more direct answer.

Oliver’s eyes fly open suddenly, unexpected anxiety in his gaze. He’s staring at her in fear, his expression intense.  _Panic_. It’s a look that doesn’t fit their quiet bedroom on a sunny morning. One that never should.

His hands grab hers, and he pulls her fingers to his lips. “You have to wake up, Felicity,” he mumbles, his voice louder, alarmed.

Her eyebrows furrow, only getting more confused. “Oliver, what are you…”

“I still need you,” he pleads desperately, “Felicity, I still need you!”

* * *

“Come on, Felicity, open your eyes. Baby, please. Please open your eyes.” Oliver has her on the rocky edge of the river, pushing her hair away from her skin with shaking fingers.

Her breathing is faint and slow but it’s  _there_. He’s already gotten the water out of her lungs, she’d coughed it out, which he knew was a good sign. But she just didn’t  _look_ …

 _No_.

She’s breathing. She’s  _alive_. She just needs to wake up. 

Oliver cradles Felicity to his chest, tucking her arms together and holding her tightly. He feels her shiver, and he curses the leather he’s wearing, knowing it isn’t doing anything to help warm her up. Her lips are blue. Her skin is so pale. But she’s shivering, her eyelids are fluttering. 

His hands grab hers, and he pulls her fingers to his lips. “You have to wake up, Felicity,” he mumbles, praying that she can hear him. 

“I still need you,” he pleads desperately, “Felicity, I still need you!”


	17. "You should kick her ass"

_greensmoak00 asked: has anyone requested 12 yet?? i’d love to see this as an olicity oneshot!_

_Arrow Out of Context Part 2!_

_“I think if The Huntress shows up, you should kick her ass.”_

Felicity kept her wrist straight as she let her fist connect with the punching bag in the bunker. Exhaling, she hit it again. And again. And again, until she was out of breath and could feel the sweat on her chest.

Shaking out her legs, she started to pull off her boxing gloves and glanced up at her computers. The source of her frustration. But if she was being honest with herself, she knew that it was much more than that.

Helena Bertinelli had escaped from prison five years ago, only to be “recruited” by A.R.G.U.S. This morning, she’d somehow escaped from Lyla’s security too, and the first thing she’d done was call Felicity’s husband for help. She wouldn’t say where she was, but she wanted a passport and a plane ticket heading somewhere remote and tropical.

Felicity wanted to turn her back over to Lyla, expecting her husband to agree that meeting Helena’s demands was ridiculous. Surprisingly, Oliver wasn’t on the same page.

He seemed to be struggling with what to do. The answer was pretty simple to Felicity; find Helena and give her back to A.R.G.U.S. Or let the government handle their own fumble. In  _her_ opinion, this was none of their business. 

Oliver apparently didn’t agree. 

So Felicity had fabricated a passport and bought Helena a ticket to Nevis, an island in the Caribbean with an ironically named “Lovers Beach.” If Felicity had to send her somewhere, she chose to let the The Huntress hide out on Lovers Beach alone. 

They were waiting to hear back from Helena on where to drop everything off. But it didn’t sit right, so Felicity was searching for her, anyway. Lyla had helped, sending her coordinates of where Helena could be hiding. Still, it was frustrating. It was frustrating that Oliver somehow felt the need to protect Helena, even against his wife’s and Lyla’s requests. And it was frustrating that she couldn’t find The Huntress. Her irritation had been building all day, getting under her skin in that ‘I can’t sit still, everything makes me want to punch something’ kind of way, which led her to the punching bag.

She stretched her arms above her head as she walked back to her computers, sighing. Just as she took her seat, checking on the progress, she heard their footsteps coming back. Roy came in first, a toddler on his hip, followed by William.

Felicity smiled, more anxiety was lifted at the sight of her children than what the punching bag had done for her. “Hi,” she greeted them, spinning in her chair.

Her daughter wiggled out of Roy’s arms, bee-lining straight for Felicity and launching herself onto her mother’s lap. Felicity huffed, catching the three year old with practiced ease. “Did you have fun with Uncle Roy?”

Lydia nodded, “Roy let William drive in the parking lot,” she said excitedly, and Felicity heard Roy and William groaning from behind her.

Felicity pinched her lips together to keep from laughing, because it was so obvious that the boys had tried to keep Lydia from ratting them out, but of course it was the first thing Lydia said. She was Felicity’s daughter, after all. Blabbing was in her genes.

“Oh he did, did he?” Felicity drawled, narrowing her eyes at her friend. “Roy Harper, he is barely fifteen,” she tried to lecture. It was hard to even pretend to be upset about it though, not when she noticed the ear to ear grin on her step-son’s face. Rolling her eyes, Felicity turned back to Lydia, “and what did you do?”

“Uncle Roy bought me a mermaid doll.”

Felicity raised her eyebrows, nodding. “That was very nice of him. Did you say thank you?”

Her three year old rolled her eyes, the exact same sass she’d learned form her mother. Sometimes it made Felicity cringe, but most of the time it made her proud. Her kids were forces to be reckoned with, and Lydia was already so headstrong and outspoken. “’Course, momma!”

Laughing, Felicity kissed her cheek, giving her a tight hug. “Thank you,” she mouthed to Roy, giving him an appreciative smile for everything he’d done today. She’d needed some time alone to work, and Roy had not only volunteered to take Lydia and William off her hands, but he’d put the biggest smiles on their in the process.

Roy just winked. “How’s the Bertinelli hunt coming along?”

Felicity groaned loudly, resting her forehead on Lydia’s shoulder. Lydia patted the top of her head, turning back to Roy and shaking her head, “that means not good, Uncle Roy.”

Roy laughed, “thanks, peanut. Anything I can do to help?”

“You could convince my husband that this is ridiculous.” Felicity grumbled.

“Mm,” Roy hummed sympathetically, “yeah, tried that. You know what arguing with Oliver is like when he has his head set on something.”

Felicity sighed, because yes, she knew all too well. “I don’t get it,” she breathed, helping Lydia as she wiggled around, facing forward and resting her back against Felicity’s chest. Felicity wrapped her arms around her, “We’re basically aiding and abetting a criminal, and for what?”

Roy shrugged, “Oliver’s peace of mind? The Huntress knows his secret, and she’s out there. He wants her as far away as possible.”

She hesitated, “A.R.G.U.S is good enough, isn’t it?”

“She escaped from prison  _and_ A.R.G.U.S. Lyla said she’s not a threat anymore. She’s not going to hurt anyone, she’s just…serving her sentence, so in Oliver’s mind…the further away from his family she is, the better.”

A twinge of guilt hit her. She’d made it very clear to her husband that she didn’t agree with this plan, giving him plenty of snark and cold shoulders as she questioned why he cared about helping Helena. Ever since Helena called this morning, Felicity had felt uneasy, blaming Oliver in the back of her mind, and she was finally realizing that it might be some displaced apprehension.

Of course, it wasn’t in Oliver’s nature to tell her what Roy was subtly trying to tell her now. That Helena was still a threat. Even if she didn’t want to kill Oliver or anyone else, she could always expose him. And then Oliver could be taken away. She was a threat to their family…to the life they’d built.

It wasn’t surprising that Oliver didn’t want to worry her, and she felt some her frustration fading as she quieted her insecurities. It might have been silly with two kids and five years of marriage under them, but something about Helena had always bothered her. The woman got under her skin. For a whole list of reasons.

Felicity sighed, nodding to Roy as she rested her cheek on Lydia’s head. “Momma,” the toddler whispered, tapping Felicity’s hand comfortingly where it rested on her little belly…somehow sensing the unease in her mother.

“What, baby?” Felicity mumbled back, kissing her temple.

“I think if The Huntress shows up, you should kick her ass.” 

“Lydia Harper Queen!” Felicity gasped, her head snapping up in surprise.

Her daughter scrambled in her lap, her eyes widening as she took Felicity’s face between her tiny hands, “Uncle Roy said you would!” she screeched.

Felicity’s face was squished and she knew she looked ridiculous, but it didn’t stop her from leveling Roy with a glare. She and Oliver had been so careful not to swear ever since Lydia learned the skill of passive listening. Seriously, the kid was a sponge, she absorbed and remembered everything. “Roy Harper,” Felicity reprimanded him in her best ‘mom voice’, her words muddled through her squished lips, “did you teach my kid a curse word?”

Lydia burst out laughing, her hands falling from Felicity’s face as she fell into a fit of giggles. “You sound  _so_ silly, momma!”

Felicity narrowed her eyes at Roy, catching Lydia before she fell off the chair. She quirked an eyebrow at Roy, waiting for an answer. He rubbed the back of his neck, “I didn’t know she heard that!” He defended himself, “Oliver called me while we were shopping, and he wanted to know if you’d mentioned anything about being upset…with all the Helena stuff…I told him that you hadn’t, but that if she showed up, I wouldn’t be surprised if you, you know, kicked her…yeah,” Roy sighed, “I definitely taught her that,” he finished, cringing.

“Roy!” Felicity pointed a finger at him, “Oliver’s going to kill me!” Then she reached down to Lydia, getting her attention and slipping a finger under her chin. “Hey, I don’t like when you say that, okay honey? It’s not a nice word. Remember how we talked about mean words?” She frowned, imagining her daughter being  _that_ kid a preschool, the one who teaches all her friends the naughty words.

Lydia’s lips pulled to the side as she thought about it, “okay,” she shrugged, “Lydia won’t say ‘ass’ anymore, momma!” She squeaked, wiggling down from Felicity’s lap and running towards William on the couches.

They watched her climb onto William’s lap without any more grievances, silently settling into her brother’s arms. Lydia leaned into William’s chest the way she’d sprawled out on Felicity, watching whatever baseball game he was streaming on his phone, appearing to forget about it already. But Felicity knew better.

Roy lifted his hands in the air, “I didn’t know she was listening!” He tried again, his lips curving into a smile that he tried to hide.

“She hears  _everything_!” Felicity hissed quietly, her eyes widening, remembering a particularly embarrassing morning when she and Oliver had thought they’d woken up before their kids, thinking they had a little time to spend in bed together…only to be interrupted by Lydia, swinging the door open without warning, her tiny voice excited as she screeched,  _“Is it wake-up time? I thought I heard you guys!”_

“She’s like a…a little toddler  _bat_ or something.”

Roy just shook his head, pulling out his phone as he grumbled, “I’m sorry… Don’t worry,  _I’ll_  tell Oliver that his daughter broadened her vocabulary today.”


	18. "I love you. Do you understand?"

_severefangirlfeels asked: Has anyone requested 20 yet?? I really want to see what you have for that!_

_“I love you. Do you understand?”_

* * *

 

Her toes were icicles. That was Felicity’s waking thought as she woke up with a groan. She pouted, adjusting the blankets around herself until she was cocooned inside. Oliver liked to keep their bedroom freezing. Something about spending years on a deserted island made it hard for him to sleep unless the room was the same temperature…she didn’t know.

Most of the time, she didn’t care, because his body was a furnace, and he never complained about her unending need to cuddle. Rolling over, she broke her hands free, reaching across the cool sheets to find him, coming up empty.

With a frown, she squinted one eye open, seeing that he wasn’t in bed. She sighed, keeping a blanket wrapped around herself and heading for the kitchen. Sometimes his nightmares, even though they were less often now, would jolt him awake and he’d need to move. It wasn’t uncommon for her to wake up alone when they’d first taken off to travel the world together. But she’d gotten used to him having a normal sleep habits lately.

She checked the kitchen first, peering over the counter top to see if he was sitting on the couch. As her eyes adjusted to the dark apartment, she picked the blanket up, freeing her feet so she could walk down the hallway to William’s room. The door was open as always, and he had a nightlight that illuminated the whole room.

Realizing that Oliver wasn’t in there, she headed for Raisa’s room, since it was the only room in the apartment she hadn’t checked. Felicity hesitated outside the door, hearing Raisa’s gentle snoring and assuming that Oliver wasn’t in there.

Sighing, she headed back for their bedroom, wondering where she’d left her phone. It was plugged in on the kitchen counter, but she didn’t have any messages from him. Felicity bit her lip, thinking that he could have gone for a walk or something, but that probably meant he’d had an especially bad nightmare.

Deciding to wait a while longer until she called him, Felicity carried her cell back to their bedroom, tucking it into her blanket burrito and scurrying back to bed. As she came into the room, her eyes were better adjusted to the darkness, and she noticed the note on his pillow.

_Felicity—at the bunker. Hopefully I’ll be back before you wake up or have a chance to miss me too much._

_I love you._

_-Oliver_

She frowned. Why would he go to the bunker? And why wouldn’t he leave more of an explanation? Also, why would her husband of one week not want to be in bed with her? Felicity  _loved_ their bed. She’d always struggled with mornings, but it was especially hard to handle when there was a shirtless Oliver Queen in bed with her. Knowing that that man was her  _husband_ for the past eight days had only magnified her refusal to accept crazy things like work, or responsibilities… or clothes.

Tossing the blanket aside, Felicity didn’t bother changing out of her yoga pants or his over sized sweatshirt. She was way too comfy, and she slid on her slippers for good measure. Then she texted Raisa to let her know that she was leaving, explaining that Oliver had left and was fine, but she wanted to check on him, and that they’d probably both be back before she or William woke up. She knew that Raisa would sleep through her phone vibrating with the message, but not through William having nightmares or the apartment catching on fire, or anything like that.

She was so tired. It was late enough that the sun hadn’t come up yet, but early enough that birds were just starting to wake up. Glancing at the clock on her dashboard, she realized that she’d had no idea what time it was. Almost 4:00. Damn, that was early, even for Oliver. Even for the mayor on a Monday morning. With everything going on…it was difficult enough to find moments for themselves, which was why it was so troubling to her that he’d leave in the middle of the night instead of waking her up if something was wrong.

When she got to the bunker, she heard the familiar sound of arrows whizzing through the air and landing in the cement wall. She sighed, seeing exactly what her ears had been expecting; Oliver shooting at tennis balls.

It didn’t compare to the salmon ladder. God, nothing compared to the salmon ladder. Or that thing he did with the giant tire and a sledgehammer. But seeing the relaxed look of concentration on his face whenever he practiced his shooting was also nice. He wasn’t aiming at threats. The balls weren’t bleeding targets, and they didn’t shoot back. It allowed Oliver to  _relax_ as he fired his arrows, maybe even enjoying himself.  _Usually_. But apparently not tonight. She clocked the tension in his shoulders first, then the intense expression on his face, his eyes narrowing and his lips a hard line.

His head tilted towards her as she came down the stairs and through the bunker, sitting down in a chair at the conference table. He just sighed, shooting one more arrow when the machine fired another ball. Then he turned it off and glanced at her, his apology on his face before it reached his mouth. “I thought you’d still be asleep.” He offered.

She smiled at him, reaching out her hand. “I got cold.”

He frowned at that, setting his bow on the table and taking her hand. He bent down in front of her, making a face as he squeezed her chilly fingers. And she chuckled when he brought them to his lips, blowing on them in an attempt to warm her up. “You didn’t have to come down here,” he mumbled, “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Did you have a nightmare?” She asked.

Oliver shook his head, “No. Just…restless.”

Felicity nodded towards the fifty or so tennis balls pinned to the wall, raising an eyebrow and wondering if this was about Rene or the team, “did that help?”

He winced, “no.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “well,” she whispered, scooting in her chair so she was closer to him. “Tell me.” Staring up at her, Oliver pursed his lips, obviously not wanting to share. In his hesitation, Felicity rolled her shoulders nervously. “Oliver,” she mumbled, “as your brand new bride, I’m trying not to be offended here that you snuck out of our bed to come play with your arrows in the middle of the night.” Her voice was teasing, but they both knew there was a hint of insecurity behind the words.

The look her gave her was unamused. “Felicity, having you curled up in my arms and watching you fall asleep is one of the highlights of my day. Always. Maybe even the best part.”

She bit her lip, grinning down at him. “So…no regrets? you didn’t run away to hide down here and plot out a divorce strategy with that lawyer lady?”

The next look he leveled her with was even  _more_ unamused. “First of all, Jean would probably quit if she thought I was stupid enough to want to divorce you. And second of all, I don’t want a divorce. And…can we actually just stop saying that word all together?” He frowned, “it’s not gonna happen.”

“Okay, good,” she smiled brightly at him, “I’d hate to think you got cold feet  _after_ the wedding. Yikes,” she cringed, making a face.

His eyes were clear and open, staring up at her, giving her thighs a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to funny for me,” he whispered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. But I don’t regret anything about our life. Not now and not ever.” Then he bit his lip as he analyzed her, ignoring her pitiful attempts at making a joke out of her fears when she’d woken up to find their bed empty, missing him. He stared at her for another moment, his eyebrows furrowing before he mumbled, “I love you. Do you understand?” 

His voice was so quiet that she barely heard him. But she knew what he was asking.  _You know I love you and I always will, right? You know that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, don’t you?_

She nodded, giving him a smile that was much more genuine and ten times less worried. His words and the look on his face instantly silencing her pointless worries. “Yeah…” she whispered, “I love you, too.” With a wink, Felicity cupped his face. “So,” she sighed, slumping her shoulders, leaning down towards him. “What are you doing down here?”

“Shooting,” he mumbled back, pushing himself up a little bit as she got closer, his lips seeking hers. 

She was going to kiss him. She’d planned on it, but his answer was unsatisfying, so she skimmed her nose against his with a low hum. “And what have you been  _thinking about_  while you were shooting, if not divor- if not that word I said before?”

He grinned, “the  _opposite_ of that word,” he breathed, moving towards her lips again. “I was thinking that my wife is absolutely  _perfect_.”

Felicity pulled back before he could kiss her, narrowing her eyes at him. “Oh yeah? Then why’d come down here, to this dark bunker all alone, instead of being in bed with that perfect wife of yours?”

He raised an eyebrow and, oh yes, there was definitely something he didn’t want to tell her. “I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oliver,” she cocked her head to the side, seeing through his bullshit. He was such a good liar when he had to be. Enough to evade prison and convince the world that he wasn’t the Green Arrow. Yet he somehow  _sucked_ at lying to her. It was one of her favorite things about him, actually.

He rolled his eyes, “fine.” Standing up, Oliver pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. He rested his hand against the table, his palm flat on the glass and his wedding band glinting off the light.

Felicity hummed, a happy little sound to match the satisfied, peaceful smile that spread across her face. It somehow kept slipping her mind that they were very literally, totally, legally  _married_ now. Every time she forgot about her own ring, she’d stare at it for a couple of minutes, appreciating the simple and honest promise it held. But the calm feeling washed over her even more when she’d notice Oliver’s, the thing on his finger that told everyone in the world he was  _hers_.

For the past week, at least once or twice a day, she’d  _forget_. And then Oliver would slip his fingers between hers, and she’d feel his band, or he’d talk with his hands like he always did, and she’d see it on his finger. And the reminder would make her sigh happily, a blissful smile crossing her lips.

He stared at her, and she met his gaze, her eyebrows furrowing, “what?”

“That!” He waved at her face. 

“What?” she asked again, laughing, her voice getting playfully defensive. “I like that we’re married! What’s the problem?”

He frowned, “I can’t wear it.”

Felicity froze, “your ring?” When he nodded once, she tried to relax her heart that immediately wanted to jump out of her chest. “Well, why not?”

He glanced at her, at the soft and sad tone of her voice, his eyes sympathizing. Oliver gestured to the tennis balls. “Archery is…so precise. Even the slightest difference can throw everything off. Ever since I’ve been wearing the ring under my suit-”

“Wait,” she interrupted, “you wear your ring under your suit?” He just nodded, and she didn’t realize she was starting to smile. She hadn’t really thought about it. Oliver and John had only gone out in the field a couple of times since the wedding, wanting to keep a low profile. But the idea of him out there, fighting for the city and saving lives while he had his ring on was irrationally heartwarming. And somehow very sexy. She let out a breathy laugh, muttering, “why is that kind of turning me on right now?”

Oliver groaned, dropping his head into her lap. “That’s the problem!” he exclaimed, “I know how much you like it…seeing it…” he glanced up at her, pointing an accusatory finger, “except, don’t think I’ve forgotten that you were the one opposed to this marriage in the first place. But…I love having this band on my finger. I love being married to you. I love everything it represents, and I love  _you_.”

Felicity paused, trying to remember what the problem was, before she got distracted. The ring was effecting his shooting accuracy somehow? She hadn’t noticed. He and Dig had done just fine on their own. “Does having it on bother you?” she asked, “I mean-in a literal sense, not an emotional one, like, wearing the ring feels different when you’re shooting?”

He nodded, and she felt a little bit better to see the relief on his face as she understood. She shrugged, it made sense. In a scientific way, even the the smallest difference in weight that the ring caused would effect his aim, the feeling of the ring between his fingers probably changed how it felt to hold his bow.

“Oliver…” she breathed, “you don’t have to come down here and brood about these things anymore, just talk to me. It’s okay. You can take it off when you’re in the field,” she shrugged, he wore gloves anyway, it’s not like anyone would even know it was missing. Or that the Green Arrow had a wedding ring to wear in the first place. In fact, it was probably  _best_ that the public didn’t somehow realize the city’s vigilante was sporting some new bling.

That’d be too much of a coincidence to let slide.

Her husband sighed, turning his cheek and resting his head on her thigh again. She moved her hands to his hair, not complaining about the way he melted into her. The Oliver she knew a couple of years ago would have never leaned on her or anyone like this. He never would have curled himself around her in such an open and vulnerable way. Her husband held onto her now, his hands gripping her waist, his fingers skimming to her thighs and back. 

“It’s not just that,” he said, “it’s not just that you like seeing the ring on my finger.” His next words came out grumbled, reminding her of a child not getting his way. “ _I_ don’t want to take it off.”

“Oliver,” she chuckled, and he looked up at her, hearing the amusement in her voice.

He frowned, “it’s not funny.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing at the pout on his lips. She kissed him, wanting to feel those adorable lips. And he huffed, “I didn’t come down here to brood, either. I was practicing; getting used to using my bow with the ring on. It…it’s just me and Dig now, and I don’t want to take any risks. I can’t.”

Felicity just shook her head, “okay. Listen, if you’re worried enough about this that you got out of bed in the middle of the night…a bed with  _me_ in it,” she said, raising her eyebrows as if the idea was ludicrous, making him laugh. “Then let’s make a deal. You take the ring off when you’re out on the streets,” he narrowed his eyes at that, and she held a finger up to stop him from arguing, “ _but_ ,” she continued, “you can spend some time, every day, using your bow. Eventually it’ll feel normal and you won’t even notice the difference.  _Then_ you can wear your ring under the leather.”

He eyed her, “why do you always come up with such simple solutions to problems that felt so heavy to me?”

Felicity beamed, wrapping her arms around his neck, “because I’m the best wife ever?” she whispered.

Oliver hummed his approval, brushing his lips against hers. “You won’t hear me disagreeing with that. Ever.”

Felicity giggled as he kissed her, pulling her out of her chair and into his lap. “Home? My toes would really like to warm themselves up on your legs.”

He grinned as if he wanted nothing more, nodding, “home.”


	19. "I'll figure out what's wrong with Oliver"

_erika-amber asked: Could you do 5 please!!?! From the arrow season 2 out of context!_

_“Don’t worry. I’ll figure out what’s wrong with Oliver.”_

_“You’d be the first.”_

* * *

 

“What are you doing down here?”

Felicity’s head snapped up from the drawer she’d been rummaging through in the bunker, her eyes widening as she glanced at John. She gaped at him for a moment, “what are  _you_ doing here?”

Diggle narrowed his eyes at her, “I came to pick up a few things. I didn’t think you’d be here… Curtis told me Oliver kind of kicked you off the team.”

“Mm,” Felicity nodded once, straightening her shoulders. “Well, it wasn’t really a team with just the two of us.”

John shook his head, “you and Oliver…you’ve always been a team, Felicity.” 

“You were on his team before I was, Dig. And look at you now. I haven’t heard from you in, what…two weeks? Did your new buddy Curtis also tell you that my husband thinks it’s a good idea to go after Diaz alone?”

John sighed, glancing away from her, “yeah, he might’ve mentioned that.”

“So…are you working with them now or something?” She cringed at how petty she sounded, but the irritation had been bubbling up ever since Oliver told her he didn’t want her helping him as Overwatch anymore. She couldn’t help but think that if John had never left…Oliver never would have made this decision.

“I’m working at A.R.G.U.S.”

Felicity snorted, “right, how is that going?” When John didn’t answer, she planted her feet and lifted her chin. He sighed, heading for the back room. As soon as he was gone, Felicity flipped on one of her monitors and tried to pull up thermal imaging of the building Oliver was in. He’d gone after Diaz’s men, but with a promise of handling this better, he’d told her where he was going and what he was doing, hoping that would at least ease her worries.

Boy, was he wrong. 

She didn’t have to  _interfere_ …unless she really needed to. She could let him work alone and just  _observe_ from her chair. She knew Oliver wouldn’t like it, but he’d also decided that she shouldn’t be Overwatch anymore without giving her any say in it, so…

Knowing where he was, having the address, was so much better than watching him on the news. At least here, she didn’t feel helpless. She wasn’t blind. She wouldn’t lose him like they’d lost Laurel.

It terrified her to think that she’d stepped away from the team, and their friend had died. One of her biggest regrets, one of the things that would always haunt her, was wondering whether or not she could have made a difference, if there was something from behind her keyboard that she could have picked up on using the prison’s security cameras the night Damien killed her. If there was a trail between Andy and Darhk, she couldn’t help but wonder if she would have found it. She could have changed everything about what happened the night Laurel died. But being away from the team meant that she didn’t even have a chance to  _try_.

‘What if’ was never a fair game to play. She’d accepted that. She knew that there was no point in tormenting herself for Laurel’s death. Not anymore. But Oliver’s death? If something happened to him while she was…anywhere but in this chair…she’d never forgive herself for letting him do this.

Diggle clearing his throat from behind her made her gasp, jumping to flip the monitors off. He stared at her pointedly as she turned around. “I’ll ask again, what are you doing here, Felicity?”

The spark of anger that rushed over her was meant for Oliver, meant for the legitimate fears that he had yet to recognize. But some of it could be for Diggle, too. “I’m trying to make sure Oliver doesn’t die, John. You know, like you should probably be doing, too.”

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face before he answered. “He’s not helpless, Felicity. He was trained by Slade Wilson, Talia al-Ghul. He’s fought with the Bratva.”

She laughed once without humor, “yeah, and when he came home after all of that…you remember meeting the same broken man that I do, don’t you, Dig?”

John raised an eyebrow, seeing her point as he nodded. “He’s not going to become that guy again, Felicity. He still has William. He has you.”

“And he always will,” she argued back, “but I’m not here to play roulette with his life, John! Just because he  _can_ fight Diaz alone, and win, I’m sure…doesn’t mean he  _should_. It doesn’t mean he  _has_ to. It’s not a risk he needs to take. You and the others…you’re the reason he’s out there without backup.”

“So, you’re going behind his back to help him? How do you think that’s going to go over, Felicity?”

“Not well. But at least I’m not leaving him high and dry.”

“Like I did?”

“Yeah,” she snapped, her voice rising, “ _exactly_ like you did!” Felicity slumped into her chair as Diggle sighed, putting his hands on his hips without replying. She turned the monitors back on, not seeing the point of trying to hide it now.

As she stared at the screens, watching Oliver make his way through the building, looking for Diaz, John came over to sit on the desk in front of her, getting her attention. “You know why Oliver needs you?”

She scoffed, looking up at him in annoyance. “Hacking. Finding people. Protecting my team. Math. My brain. Science. Inventing trick arrows.” She rattled off the things she’d heard Oliver and the rest of the team praise her for. Her place was in the bunker, at the computer. She knew that, she  _loved_ that.

John laughed, nodding along, “yes. To all of that. Do you know what else, though?”

She cocked her head to the side, “what?”

“Your faith in him. In what he can do. You’ve always seen the good in him…the  _best_ in him. And Oliver has always listened to you. He fights for  _you_. He wouldn’t be The Green Arrow without you. Coming back here every night and knowing that you’re here, that you believe in him, it means everything to him. You’re his strength, Felicity.”

Biting her lip, she muttered “it’s not the same, John…” as she glanced back at the screen. It did feel good to know that Oliver needed her. They were partners. He loved her. And she knew that he appreciated her. But she couldn’t be the wife that sat at home and waited by the door so she could clean his wounds at the end of the night, if he came home at all. She couldn’t.

“I know,” John sighed, “I know this is hard for you, but I think Oliver needs this. He needs to remember what he’s fighting for, because it’s not about me, Dinah, Rene, or Curtis. He’s hurt that everyone left, and I know that what I said to him didn’t instill very much confidence… I have some things to figure out for myself…and then we can talk. But I still know Oliver, Felicity. He needs to figure out how to trust himself again.”

“And he can’t do that if I don’t let him…is that what you’re getting at?”

Diggle shrugged, “I think Oliver will realize sooner rather than later that he wanted you on the team for a reason. That he  _needed_ you for a reason. People have come and gone, but not you.”

“Or you,” she whispered, “until now, that is.”

John just sighed, his shoulders slumping. Before he could respond, Felicity’s phone chimed with a high pitched alarm, and she gasped, her hand darting out to pick it up. “What is that?” Dig asked.

“I planted a bug on Oliver’s suit. It checks his vitals…” her eyes met John’s, and then flew to the screen where she could see Oliver’s silhouette fighting someone. Her heart sank, wondering if it was Diaz. Whoever it was, they were laying into Oliver a little too harshly for her liking. His heart was racing, but he was struggling to breathe. “John…”

She heard him curse under his breath, and then he was moving, “I’m going.”

* * *

As soon as they came into the bunker, Felicity started towards them. Oliver was jogging down the steps ahead of Diggle, his eyes on her. She could tell that he had things to say, and she was sure that it was an issue with Dig coming to save him. But their minds were in the same place, and he moved towards her, not stopping until he felt her arms winding around his neck. Oliver slipped his hands into her coat, grabbing her waist and holding her against him as he kissed her without a word. Her hands slid down his neck and over his shoulders, then down his arms. She was checking him over, looking for injuries as she kissed him back.

Oliver shook his head with a sigh, “I thought we agreed-”

“It wasn’t an agreement, Oliver. You know that.”

He huffed, gripping his fingers against her hips a little more, holding on, “but I thought you understood-” She shook her head, cutting him off again, and he pursed his lips. “I can handle myself, Felicity. Diaz is not Damien Darhk or Slade Wilson. He’s not in a Mirakuru rage and he doesn’t have magic. He’s a thug.”

“It doesn’t matter, Oliver! It’s not about how evenly matched you are. Just one…just one mistake, one moment where you underestimate him, or you’re outnumbered and…”

“I made you a promise, I need you to trust that I will keep it. I need you to trust me.”

She shook her head, unsure about where to even start with explaining how flawed that promise was. She didn’t want to shake his confidence, to make him think that she doubted him, because then what if he doubted himself? But she also didn’t want him to continue making this promise that he couldn’t keep. There were too many variables for him to make the promise that he’d always come back. Ra’s al-Ghul had taught her that. Adrian Chase had reminded her of it. And even if Diaz was just a thug that Oliver was capable of taking down on his own, he couldn’t control other peoples’ actions. There were too many moving pieces. Too many things that could go wrong.

Oliver met her eyes, his eyebrows furrowing, “I don’t want you down here anymore, Felicity. I don’t want you working on this.” He said lowly, brushing his thumb across her cheek. Then he kissed the spot he’d touched, “I’m going to get changed. Wait for me to take you home, please?”

He waited for her to nod, and then he walked into the back room. Felicity stared after him, and then she glanced at John as he stepped down from the stairs. She gestured to where her husband had disappeared, “what the hell happened out there?” She asked in a whisper.

Diggle stared after Oliver, too. “I don’t know. Diaz was there. He had more men on the way, and he was beating into Oliver pretty good. I helped him get out, but he’s been silent ever since. He wasn’t even surprised to see me,” John let out a disbelieving laugh, “I think he might’ve been expecting you to do something like this.”

Rolling her eyes, Felicity huffed. “Something like what…stop him from getting beaten to death? What is going  _on_ with him?” She breathed, frustration bubbling up again. “He’s acting so weird about all of this.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll figure out what’s wrong with Oliver.” John said, moving towards the back room. 

“You’d be the first,” she mumbled after him.

John tapped on the door frame, finding Oliver sitting in one of the seats, changed but taking a moment to himself before he headed back out there to face his wife again. Dig understood the feeling. “How you doing, man? It looked like Diaz got a couple solid hits in there.”

Oliver shrugged, “bruised ribs are nothing new for me, John.”

He laughed once, raising an eyebrow, “I know, Oliver. But getting beat up doesn’t hurt any less the hundredth time than it did the first time.” Oliver made a noise of agreement, flinching as he stood up. “Look… I know you don’t want my advice anymore, so let’s both just file what I’m about to say under ‘for Felicity.’ When Oliver just stared at him, he took it as an invitation to continue rather than one to get lost. “She’s scared, Oliver. She’s watched you do this for six years, she knows what you can do. Just…set your ego aside for a minute and put yourself in her shoes. Think about how it would feel if it was her out there, in danger, and you had no idea if she was okay or not.”

Dig was surprised when Oliver sighed, sinking back onto his chair. He hung his head, rubbing his wrists against his temples and closing his eyes. “Diaz’s operation is pitiful, John. He screwed himself by killing Cayden James. He has the muscle, he has the skill and the persuasion. The money,” Oliver clenched his fists, “but he doesn’t have the brain for what he’s trying to do.”

Staring at him, it finally clicked for Diggle. “Felicity’s the one who can stop him.”

Oliver nodded, glancing up at him. “Felicity could probably cut off the financial supply that Cayden set up for him. Most of his crew is being blackmailed, and she could probably amend most of that, too…”

John let out a breath, shaking his head, “then why the hell hasn’t she? Why are you benching her when she’s the one who can end this in ten seconds?”

“Because even if she stopped his operation, it wouldn’t be  _over_. Diaz runs off of unhinged anger and revenge. The target on her back would be huge, Dig. Diaz would  _kill_ her.”

“We can protect her.”

“What we!?” Oliver snapped, his face crumpling. “There’s no we, John. It’s just me…and I can’t keep her safe forever. If Felicity cuts off his supply, and he disappears…he’ll come back. For her.”

“Lyla and I can set you guys up in an A.R.G.U.S. safe house,” John offered.

Oliver gave him a look, “no offense to your wife, but every time we use those houses, they never turn out to be all that safe. And I need her to be  _safe_ , John. I need…”

A long moment of silence passed between them, and then John nodded. “I’ll come back. I’ll work with you to take down Diaz. The three of us…we’ll shut him down and put him behind bars before he even realizes Felicity was the one who stopped him, before he has a chance to retaliate.”

Oliver’s head fell into his hands. “No, I can handle it, Dig. I can stop Diaz. All I need to do is get close enough.”

John shook his head, “you need help, Oliver. Get some, before it’s too late.”

* * *

Felicity was curled up against his side on the couch, her feet tucked underneath her, and Oliver pulled the blanket down to cover her toes, knowing how cold her feet got. Yet she insisted on being barefoot, crinkling her nose at the thought of socks any time he suggested it. 

He smiled slightly, remembering one of their first nights together, when Felicity had carefully pressed her feet against his calves just as he was falling asleep, and he’d jolted at how cold they were. He’d opened his eyes to see her biting her lip; an innocent, apologetic look on her face. It was cute enough that he’d let her use his legs to warm her toes ever since.

Rubbing her shoulder, he listened to her hum, her nose nestling into his neck as she sighed. “Are you ready for bed?” he mumbled, pressing his lips against her forehead. She hummed again, her fingers gripping his shirt in a fist over his chest, scooting her body closer to his. He smiled, “you’re tired, honey.”

“Worrying about you makes me tired,” she groaned back.

Oliver glanced down at her, moving her hair away from her face. “We can talk more about this tomorrow, okay?” She let out a breath, nodding and holding on to him a little tighter.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled, a gentle chill moving over her body as he ran his fingers through her hair. He looked down at her, watching one of his favorite sights in the world. 

Felicity Smoak was a force to be reckoned with. Her passion and her beauty continually stunned him. Her strength and her intelligence always made him proud to be her husband. But there was something incredibly  _sweet_ about watching his wife fall asleep. 

“No more minutes,” he whispered back, kissing her temple before he gently pulled her into his lap. Ignoring the dull pain of a few bruises, he stood up from the couch and hoisted her into his arms. The days of her jarring awake when he did this were over. Now she didn’t even flinch, her eyes still closed, not the slightest bit surprised as he carried her. Oliver rolled his eyes as she grinned, cuddling into his chest. 

“You spoil me, Queen,” she practically purred. 

“You deserve it,” he mumbled back, only  _slightly_ sucking up to her for being a jerk lately. She was worried about him, but he was just as stressed over her safety. She wasn’t the one to take it out on, though. She was the one who deserved to be spoiled. To be carried to bed in his arms.

He walked to William’s door first, and his son shook his head at the sight of them. “Goodnight, buddy,”

“Night dad, night Felicity.”

“Goodnight William,” Felicity sighed, reaching her hand out to wiggle her fingers at him, “sleep tight.”

He was halfway to their bedroom when the doorbell rang, making him groan at the same time Felicity did. He brought Felicity to her side of the bed and laid her down, glancing at her as her eyes fluttered open. A pout immediately turned her lips downward as her eyebrows furrowed. He smiled, bending down to kiss her. “Be right back,” he mumbled against her lips.

Oliver jogged towards the door as another knock sounded. But then he slowed down, staring at the door and stopping completely. It suddenly occurred to him that with Diaz running the city, after tonight’s attack…the person on the other side of that door might not be a friend. 

He quietly headed for the kitchen, pulling out a kitchen knife, and creeping back to the door. He stopped just in front of it. To listen. Noting the silence, he moved to look out into the hallway, and then he gasped.

Swinging the door open, he stared with wide eyes at the guest. He still held the knife in his hand, but it was Felicity who spoke first. “Oh my god,” she breathed from behind him, making him spin around. 

She gave him an odd look, eyeing the weapon in his fist. But then she was hurrying to the door. “Roy,” she breathed, flinging herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

Roy hugged her back, smiling at him over Felicity’s shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at the knife. “Dig said you could use some help.”


	20. "but I'm not that person and I never will be" ARGUS Part 2

_anonymous  asked: 16 of the out of s2 context prompts plssss _

_“You deserve someone better, who can harness that light that’s still inside of you, but I’m not that person and I never will be.”_

_A.R.G.U.S Agents Part 2_

* * *

 

The first day he’d met Felicity Smoak, she’d been babbling to Roy Harper about all the reasons “kangaroos wig me out.” 

Oliver had paused at the fruit bowl in the A.R.G.U.S. mess hall, his hand on an apple, to listen to her. It was probably the most peculiar conversation he’d ever heard between two federal agents. Harper had responded about a kangaroo he’d pet at a zoo once, and Felicity had shuddered and warned him, very seriously, that kangaroos in the wild were not as friendly. Then she’d leaned closer to her friend, “they look evil.”

Oliver couldn’t help the way his lips pulled up in a smile. And he’d kept his eyes on her as he walked by, noting the way she twisted her fingers together. All of the new recruits were nervous on their first day of training. Most of them had a background with the military or at least experience in another branch of the government. But there were the rare few, like Felicity Smoak, who A.R.G.U.S. sought out.

It was clear that she was not here to become a soldier, and he thought he remembered Lyla mentioning a girl named Felicity coming onto the cyber security task force. The director has plucked her fresh out of MIT. He’d only been half listening, but a name like Felicity Smoak definitely rang a bell.

Still, all recruits had to undergo at least one week of training. Since he was in charge of teaching them, he wasn’t all that surprised to see her face after breakfast, when he’d walked into the room full of waiting new recruits. What had surprised him though was the smile Felicity gave him as he came in. 

Every face in the room was stern, focused…as they should be. But she smiled, her eyes nervous yet excited as they met his. She was a light in the middle of darkness, and he smiled back before he could stop himself.

Just as quickly, he’d glanced away, clearing his throat and jumping into the first session. He tried to push thoughts of Felicity out of his head, hoping no one noticed. He stole glances at her the whole first day, becoming more and more irritated with himself every time his eyes roamed over to her without thinking about it.

It caused him to be a little harder on her than the rest. 

Part of the problem was that he was worried she didn’t know how serious this job was. He was afraid that the babbling blonde who feared kangaroos didn’t know what she’d gotten herself into. But it was also his reaction to her that scared him. He’d been an A.R.G.U.S. agent for nearly a decade now, and he was used to a routine. He was familiar with combat, death, and orders. What he wasn’t comfortable with was getting distracted. Letting a pretty blonde make him smile in a way that felt foreign. 

Training week was over now, which meant he’d definitely be seeing less of her. She’d go on her way with the tech department, and he’d stay on his side of the building, continuing to train new soldiers and lead Director Michaels’ new Task Force-X. He knew he’d have his hands full with the group of criminals Lyla had scrounged up. “The worst of the worst,” if you asked her.

Today was their first mission with the Task Force, or The Suicide Squad, as Deadshot had coined it. 

He was out for an early morning jog, wanting to sweat out some of his nerves before he had to go save an American senator being held hostage. As soon as the squad was geared up, they’d be heading out. He also needed to clear his mind, because the way he’d gone back and forth over going to Felicity’s room the night before made him nervous. It’d kept him up half the night before he’d finally decided to stay put and get a couple hours of sleep. 

He’d never been so anxious before a mission. If he died, then he died. Everyone had a time to go, and he’d accepted long ago that his would probably be in the midst of this job. Yet, when that thought hit him last night, Felicity had popped into his head, and he’d realized that he really didn’t want to die without telling the adorable blonde that she’d unknowingly squeezed her way into his heart. That he  _liked_ her. 

But damn, did he need to get a grip. It was never a good idea to go out into the field distracted. He nodded to himself, picking up the pace as he ran through the woods. 

At first he thought the blonde ponytail swinging ahead of him on the trail was his mind playing tricks on him. But then as he rounded the corner, he caught sight of her again and he grinned. All thoughts of focusing left his mind…because…her  _ass_. She was dressed in a pair of skin tight floral leggings as she jogged ahead of him, her head bobbing, listening to whatever music was playing from the phone in her hand. He watched her for a moment, catching her lips moving to the song as she turned her head to the side, watching the trees passing by her.

He observed Felicity for another moment as she ran and danced, her eyes lifting up to the sky now to appreciate the light blue color, the sun peeking through the trees above her.

Oliver shook his head before dropping into a sprint, catching up to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to the ground, listening to her yelp in surprise as he landed on his back and skidded through the leaves. He settled her onto his chest, catching his breath. 

Felicity’s eyes darted down to his, lighting with rage, but he just lifted his hand to her hair, smirking as he pulled a leaf out of her blonde ponytail. “What the hell are you doing!?” She shrieked, scrambling off of him.

“You were distracted, agent Smoak, didn’t even see me coming. Did I teach you nothing last week?”

She huffed, pushing her hair back, her chest rising and falling quickly. As angry as she was, she still reached out to help him to his feet, and his eyes fell to her chest, appreciating the light layer of sweat on her skin and the freckle over her breast that he’d never had the pleasure of noticing before. “I wasn’t ready,” Felicity gasped, wiping sweat from her brow.

He raised an eyebrow at her, amused, “always be ready.”

Felicity nodded once, glancing around at the forest. “What are you doing out here? Don’t you have a mission today?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, surprised she even knew about it. “I was just on my way back.”

Felicity nodded too, “are you nervous? I mean, is it going to be an easy day at the office, or…?”

He cocked his head to the side, fighting and failing at containing a grin, “are you worried about me, agent Smoak?”

She pursed her lips as he teased her, “would that be such a surprise?”

Oliver’s eyes darted between hers, his smile falling, because despite his tone, she didn’t play along. She was serious. He stared at her for another moment. “I’ll be fine, Felicity.” He mumbled, thrown off guard because he couldn’t remember the last time someone had expressed concern for his life like that. Also, using her first name always made his heart feel lighter, made him  _melt_ a little bit, which was why he didn’t do it.

She stepped towards him, her tongue slipping out to lick her lips as she stared up at him. It was like she was trying to decide if she could believe it or not, and he held his breath…wondering how she’d feel if she  _couldn’t_. Did she actually care enough to worry about him? The look in her eyes said she did, and he suddenly felt the tension leaving his body.

The idea that she wanted him to be okay, to come back…for whatever reason, it made him sure that he would. He had to, because he was far from done with her, with learning new things about her and  _talking_ to her.

Felicity finally nodded, believing that he meant what he said. And he couldn’t shake the seriousness in her voice or the concentration in her eyes that morning. He’d thought about it for most of the day, picturing it every time he heard gun shots or wondered how long the mission would take. What surprised him the most though was that thinking about her didn’t distract him. It did the opposite, making him focus as they worked, pushing him to get the job done as quickly and efficiently as possible. 

At least, that was until they realized that the senator they had come to save was the one who’d set up the hostage situation in the first place. A presidential campaign in his sights, he apparently thought it would boost his revenue to have survived the ordeal.

Unfortunately, the team hadn’t seen the attack coming. Working their way through the building and taking down the senator’s hired mercenaries took longer than he’d expected it too. For a brief second, he’d wondered if Felicity had gotten word of the turn of events and if she was concerned. But then he had a gun in his face, and he snapped back into the moment, taking the man down and continuing through the corridors with Deadshot at his side.

When they finally made it out of the building with the senator in handcuffs, along with any mercenaries who’d survived, everyone on Task Force-X was accounted for…except for Mark Scheffer. Tires squealed in the distance, and Oliver cursed loudly. “Shrapnel, do you copy?”

“Uh, he’s gone, boss.” Carrie Cutter’s voice came back on the other end of the comm. 

Oliver let out a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Shrapnel…” he tried again, “turn the car around. Get your ass back here. Now!”

“I’m not going back!” Scheffer answered.

Lyla stepped in, directing him over his earpiece, “Oliver…you have to pull the trigger. He can’t get away.”

Oliver tightened his grip on the senator’s arm as he pushed the line to reach Scheffer again. “Shrapnel, you have ten seconds to start coming back.”

“No way, man.”

He kept Shrapnel on the line as he counted, his heart picking up speed as he heard the man pressing harder on the gas of the stolen car, trying to get out of range from the device planted in his skull. “Damn it!” Oliver shouted at he reached the end of his warning, pulling out the device and slamming it against his palm. 

Oliver heard the explosion through his earpiece first, blowing out his eardrum, and he let it. He opened his eyes and watched the smoke in the distance. “Come on, boss.” Deadshot mumbled, “we gotta get out of here.”

The first thing he did when they got back to base was march into Director Michaels’ office and slam the door. The following hour long debate with his superior was almost as draining as the mission had been. Oliver argued that they needed to find a better way to handle things that didn’t require him to kill his own team. Lyla argued that the the rules for the squad were clear, and it was their choice whether or not they followed them. He left without any new answers or solutions than he’d gone in with. And then first thing he saw, leaning against the wall as he came out of Lyla’s office, was Felicity.

She smiled gently at him, cautiously, and he guessed that she’d heard at least a portion of his argument with Lyla. “Hi,” she whispered.

Oliver just stared at her for a moment, but his mind was blank. Not having anything to say, he started to move past her, unwilling to recognize the clenching of his heart as embarrassment. Shame. “Hey wait,” she followed after him, grabbing his arm. “Oliver, slow down.”

He spun around to face her, and the way she cringed away wasn’t lost on him. “What, agent Smoak?” he mumbled.

“Are you okay?”

He shook his head, “no. Not really.”

“Then let’s go…Let’s- let’s get of here. Go somewhere-” she babbled, “we can talk. Or, not talk. Or whatever.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and then he lifted his chin towards Lyla’s door, “were you listening?” She pursed her lips and nodded. “Then you know what I did today.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “what you  _had_ to do.”

“There’s always a choice, Felicity.”

“Oliver…” she sighed, reaching out to touch his forearm with her fingers. He closed his eyes, not having enough willpower left to fight it, how good it felt, and he leaned into her. Felicity’s hands ran up and down his arms, rubbing her palms against his skin, soothing him as she stepped closer. “I think I can help. Maybe I can come up with something that will keep your team in line without having to blow their heads off.”

At the crude image, the vivid picture of what he’d done to his agent, Oliver flinched, stepping away from her. Felicity squeezed her eyes shut, reaching out for him again, but he took another step back. “I’m sorry.” She blurted, “I didn’t mean for that to sound so…”

“No,” he breathed, “you’re right.”

“Oliver…” she whispered his name again, stepping towards him as he took another step away. She tried to smile, but it was much more grim than the first smile she’d offered him on that first day. It was nowhere near the beaming energy she’d had before. 

Had he taken that away?

It certainly felt like he had. 

“I like you,” she mumbled, lifting her shoulder, “a lot. And I want to help. Not just your team, but…you.”

For every bit of brightness she had to offer, he knew that he had ten more shades of dark inside of him. “You deserve someone better, who can harness that light that’s still inside of you, but I’m not that person and I never will be.” 

Her eyebrows shot up, “maybe _I_ should decide what I deserve, Oliver.” She argued, her tone offended.

Shaking his head, he started to walk away from her. The last thing he wanted was to fight with this girl in the middle of the hallway, as if he hadn’t brought her down enough in the two weeks he’d known her. “Hey,” she clipped, grabbing his hand to stop him. “For such an emotionless robot that you pretend to be, what happened today sure did  _hurt_ you. You care, Oliver. About people. About your team. And…maybe about me. People who don’t have any light left in them…they don’t  _care_.”

This time she was the one to turn and walk away, and he stared after her, her words replaying in his mind over and over.


	21. "Once you let the darkness inside, it never comes out"

_the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl asked: #13 if you're still taking prompts?_

_“Once you let the darkness inside, it never comes out.”_

* * *

 

Felicity’s words circled his mind over and over, a never ending loop that had him spiraling downwards, his carefully constructed walls crumbling to the ground around him just like his city.

She was his glue. His foundation. His  _rock_. And she had warned him.

He didn’t listen.

_“Oliver, I love you. And I trust you, but this plan is crazy. What makes you think Anatoly will forgive and forget?”  
_

_“I’m hoping he doesn’t forgive and forget, honey. We need to find Diaz. Anatoly will take me right to him.”_

_A long silence filled the space between them, ringing through his ears in their apartment that felt so much more like home ever since she’d come to call it hers, too. “Diaz is not Slade Wilson, Ra’s al Ghul, Adrian Chase, or Damien Dark.” She argued, crossing her arms._

_He could see that she was getting upset, and he closed the distance, standing in front of her and rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “I know,” he said, offering her another smile. “He’s a thug, Felicity.”_

_“Exactly, Oliver,” she snapped. “Slade had his revenge, Ra’s had a code, Adrian had a plan, and Damien had a method to his madness. Diaz has none of that.”  
_

_He stared down at her, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her. “Right,” he said carefully, “Diaz has narcissism…and that’s about it.”_

_She shoved him backward, pushing on his chest until he let go of her, “it’s not funny, Oliver! This isn’t a game to me.”_

_His eyebrows shot up, and he raised his hands in surrender, surprised by her temper. “Okay,” he nodded, “okay, you’re right. Felicity…you’re right. Diaz isn’t like the men we’ve been up against before.”_

_“You underestimating him is going to be what gets you killed.” She fumed, her anger bubbling up more than he’d seen it in a long time.  
_

_“I’m not underestimating him,” he defended gently, “I see him for what he is.”  
_

_“A thug?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.  
_

_Oliver hesitated, seeing that she was challenging him, that it wasn’t the answer she wanted, but he shrugged anyway. Because it was true. Diaz was child’s play compared to other people they’d encountered._

_His wife nodded, glancing away from him, “and how many thugs have you known who fight fair, Oliver?”_

_After that, she’d walked away, heading into their bedroom, leaving the door open for him. Always. And he knew that he could follow her. He could curl himself around her in their bed, hold her while they went back and forth like this for a few more rounds. Disagreements always felt better when she was between his arms…but he didn’t have time. He had a meeting with The Bratva to get to._

Step one had been clearing Anatoly’s debt. Getting him back into the graces of The Bratva. Step two was pretending to believe it was enough to mend their friendship.

He’d expected that Anatoly wouldn’t accept the olive branch. He couldn’t say he predicted getting tazed, but the outcome remained. Step three, of course, was getting himself in a room with Diaz. Even the fight he saw coming. If there was anything he knew about Ricardo, it was that the poor guy always had something to prove. And he always had to use his fists to do it.

Oliver never hoped that Diaz would keep his word. Men like him didn’t go by any kind of honor or respect…Felicity was definitely right about that. But he’d felt good, the whole thing had gone as he’d expected it to. He just needed Diaz to yield, and for Anatoly to realize that they were brothers, they’d always been brothers…and then he’d be exactly where he wanted to be. It was all working…until he’d felt Diaz stab him.

So now he stared at the wall of his holding room, his hand cuffed to a metal bar, and his wife’s words running through his head.  _“And how many thugs have you known who fight fair, Oliver?”_

He should have known better. Every mentor he’d had had drilled it into his skull; expect the unexpected. He’d  _known_ that…but his problem wasn’t that he’d underestimated Diaz. It was that he’d  _over_ estimated him. He’d expected the man to hold himself with the same pride and dignity as The Bratva. He’d expected his opponent to fight with the same honor and morality as The League of Assassins.

He’d kept telling Felicity that Diaz was nothing more than a thug. Yet he hadn’t walked into that battle prepared to fight a thug. He’d prepared as if he was about to face Ra’s on a mountaintop, when he should have had his eyes open and his instincts ready to fight a cheap-shooting loser.

_Thugs don’t fight fair._

On the other side of the door, Felicity was sneaking her way through the precinct. She’d called in a fake sighting of Black Canary and Spartan that half of the crooked cops took off to deal with, then she’d set off one of the armed doors on the other side of the building, distracting a few more. The security cameras were feeding a loop from an hour ago, so the hallway was clear.

Aside from the two stooges guarding the room where her husband was.

Having no more tricks up her sleeve, Felicity simply approached them, watching as a smile spread across Anatoly’s face and Black Siren arched an eyebrow. “Open the door.” Felicity demanded, ready to show Black Siren how her punch had improved since the last time her fist met the woman’s mouth.

Anatoly stepped aside, still smiling, even though Felicity was ready to knock some of his teeth out, too.

She glared, her eyes shifting from Anatoly to Black Siren. One guard dog was already yielding as soon as he’d seen her. But Black Siren was a little more hesitant. She didn’t want to get in trouble with her Diaz, and Felicity had a hard time holding in a sadistic laugh at the idea of Black Siren being his pet; one who barked, or screamed, on command…one who sat when told to sit and bit when told to bite.

The woman had already tried to kill Felicity once, and her friends a handful of times more. There was no point in playing nice now. Black Siren was a whole head taller than her, but it didn’t stop Felicity from lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, stepping close until she had to look up at her. “If I let you in there,” Black Siren seethed, “he’ll kill me.”

Shaking her head at the frightened, unbelievable tone, Felicity rolled her eyes. Did Quentin actually buy this act? She’d tried to play the same card when it was Adrian Chase’s thumb she was under.

But this woman was no caged bird. 

She could sing and shatter the eardrums of any man who tried to control her…going along with them was her  _choice_. It was plain to see. “You know,” Felicity said, stepping closer to her, “I’m sure you’re sick of Quentin comparing you to the Laurel from this earth. Trying to force you to be like her.” Black Siren’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she thought Felicity was sympathizing. A look flashed in her eyes as she stared down at Felicity; a predator who believed she had her prey exactly where she wanted it.

But she couldn’t be more wrong. “When I look at you, I don’t even see our Laurel. The Laurel I knew was full of compassion, motivation, and kindness. I think you know that from the moment I saw you…the night you came to the bunker claiming to be her…I didn’t see you as the Laurel I knew. Do you want to know why?” Felicity asked. Black Siren cocked her head to the side, listening. “Because you’re  _not_ her. You never will be. You’re a sick, sad woman and that’s the reason you align with men like Ricardo Diaz, Cayden James, and Adrian Chase.”

Black Siren scoffed, fighting not to be offended. “Telling me that I disgust you isn’t going to help you get into that room.”

A flash of anger ignited Felicity’s next words, “once you let the darkness inside, it never comes out.” She shook her head, “I’ve watched every hero I know try to fight that darkness…slay their demons. But  _you?_ You  _are_ your demons. And I feel sorry for you.” Felicity exhaled, seeing that her words were melting the anger right off of her. “You don’t  _have_ darkness inside of you, Laurel. It  _consumes_ you.”

The woman in front of her was taking too long to get the hell out of her way, and Felicity was really considering how many options she had to remove her from the path to her husband. But Anatoly reminded her of his presence before she had to put any of her ideas into action.

He came up behind Black Siren, catching her neck in a choke hold that quickly had her eyes rolling back. As the woman passed out, Anatoly dragged her weight over to a bench along the wall, mumbling “your husband taught me that one,” as he left Black Siren in a slump.

Then he walked back over to the door, pulling out a set of keys and opening it for her.

Shouldering past Anatoly, Felicity came into the holding room and her eyes immediately found Oliver. He blinked at the sound of someone coming in, but aside from that, his face and his body remained motionless.

She closed the door behind her, leaving Anatoly in the hallway to take care of Black Siren. “Hey,” she sighed, coming around the table to kneel in front of Oliver. His face looked worse in person than it had on TV, and she gently ran her fingers over the gash on his eyebrow. “You okay?”

Oliver’s eyes finally shifted to look at her, but it was only for a moment, then he closed his eyes, not meeting her gaze. “What are you doing here?” He asked instead.

“I’m checking on my big dummy of a husband,” she teased, nudging his knee. But he didn’t smile. He opened his eyes, but only to stare at the table in front of him. She cringed, “Oliver…it wasn’t stupid, bad joke…sorry. You took a risk.”

He shook his head, “and look where it got me.”

“I know it seems bad right now-”

“Felicity,” he cut her off sharply, leveling her with a look. “I’m about to be put on trial at the hands of the most corrupt officials this city has ever seen.”

“They don’t have any solid evidence, Oliver,” she argued, her hand sliding up his thigh, trying to comfort him. “You’re the mayor and a bit of a media attention hog. There’s nothing they can do without every news station broadcasting it to the world. Diaz is an idiot…he can’t go anywhere near this trial unless he wants to be next on Samanda Watson’s list.”

He glanced down at her, “they don’t need evidence. Not real evidence, at least. Diaz can do whatever he wants. I’m sure he has a judge in his pocket that would gain a nice paycheck for this trial.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, “then we’ll just have to make sure that we can prove without a doubt that you  _aren’t_ The Green Arrow.”

Her husband hesitated, glancing at her like she was crazy for a moment before he finally moved, leaning closer to her. “How are we going to do that?” He asked lowly, raising a blood-soaked eyebrow at her. “I  _am_ The Green Arrow.”

“Says who?” She asked, a slow smile spreading across her face as she got an idea. “The only photo Diaz has was fabricated.”

“I know,” Oliver mumbled, his hand finding hers, “but how are we going to prove that I’m not The Green Arrow?”

She smirked, “by showing the city who  _is_.”

He cocked his head to the side, and then his face fell, his eyebrows furrowing, “No one else is taking the fall for me, Felicity…especially not John. I let that happen with Roy, and I will never do it again. I don’t want any of this to be happening either, but we can’t let him do that. Do you hear me?” He asked, his eyes pleading, “I know you love me, and I love you too,” he rambled. “So much, honey. But I would confess to everything…before I let Dig or anyone else give up their life for me again.”

“Slow down,” she chuckled, rubbing her hands over his legs. He took a deep breath, keeping his eyes on her face as he stopped to listen. “I didn’t mean John. We have a certain friend who takes bullets for a living?” she prompted, “can make himself look like anyone we choose.”

Narrowing his eyes, he considered her words. “Christopher Chance…” he nodded, “but who? Felicity, even if you called him, even if he crashed down into the courtroom and-”

“Oh,” his wife interrupted, her eyes widening, “I like that idea.”

He sighed, because he’d meant for it to sound too dramatic, but he could already see the wheels turning in his wife’s head. “Even if we ask for his help…” He mumbled slowly, “Chance has to take on  _someone’s_ face…we’ll be putting a bounty on that person’s head. Every criminal who felt wronged by The Green Arrow will know his face. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to let anyone, not even a stranger, be a scapegoat. Are you really ready to paint a target on someone’s back like that?”

She chewed on her lip, considering his words, and he could see that she already had at least a couple of ideas. He trusted her, he really did, and he knew that she would never let someone get hurt, not even to save him.

“Hey,” he whispered, interrupting her thoughts, waiting until she met his eyes. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

She smiled, nodding quickly. “Always, baby.” She said with a wink, making him shake his head, amused.

“I’m being serious here…Felicity, you were right. I should have just taken Diaz down when I had the shot. I shouldn’t have bothered with all of these games. I played right into his hand.”

“No,” she soothed, standing up just so she could move over him, taking a seat on his lap. He wrapped his one free arm around her waist, balancing her on his knee. Felicity hugged him, her arms winding around his neck, and he made sure to inhale, to take a deep breath in as her hair grazed his nose. He wasn’t sure how to tell his wife, but he was afraid of how long it’d be until he got to breathe her in again. “Oliver,” she whispered in his ear before pulling back to look at him, “you were right about Anatoly. Your plan  _worked_. He let me in, and he’s outside that door right now, making sure we’re safe in here.”

Oliver’s eyes closed at that; the slightest relief, the smallest victory in a war he shouldn’t be losing. “And we’re going to be fine, Oliver.” Her hands ran through his hair, her cheek pressing against his head as she murmured to him. He leaned into her, resting his head on her chest. “Diaz was a fool to speed up your trial. He clearly doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. You and me?” She squeezed him a little tighter, “no one has a shot against us when we’re on the same team.”

Pulling back, her husband smiled up at her. “We’re always on the same team, honey. Forever.”

She chuckled, leaning down to kiss him. As she pressed her lips against his, he slid his tongue across her lower lip, tasting her…again, out of fear he might be able to for a very, very long time. It wasn’t the time to think about that, though. “I love you,” he told her instead.

She nodded, pushing her forehead against his. “I love you, too.”

“Well isn’t that sweet,” Diaz’s voice made Felicity gasp, whirling around to look at the doorway. 

Oliver didn’t react aside from his back stiffening, but when Felicity tried to jump out of his arms as if she was going to lunge at Diaz with a sharp “you sick son of a bitch,” he gripped her tighter.

Ricardo just raised an eyebrow at his firecracker of a wife, nodding as if he was impressed with her temper. Oliver wasn’t. Her habit of antagonizing psychopaths would never be okay with him. She tried one more time to wiggle off of his lap, but he honestly had no idea what she would do, so he held tight.

With a huff, Felicity relented, her tiny hands balling into fists in her lap instead. “What do you want?” She spat, “because my husband might have one hand cuffed to this table, and you might think you’d actually have a chance at beating him without having to cheat like the scum that you are-”

“ _Felicity_ ,” Oliver hissed.

“I promise you’d be wrong, though.” Her eyes never left Diaz as he paced in front of the table where they sat. “He’ll kill you with one hand if he has to…” Felicity whispered, “but you’ll be especially sorry if my six inch heels happen to find themselves in your eye sockets.” She finished, flashing the man a sarcastic smile.

Diaz just watched her for a moment. Felicity’s anger was enough to make her stare back, but Oliver could see the cold and calculated assessment behind Ricardo’s eyes.

He was studying her.  _For what?_  was the question that had his heart beating a little too fast, that had his fingers gripping into her waist a little too tightly. “I’m not a monster, Miss Smoak.” Diaz said lowly. His voice and the emotionless look in his eyes said the opposite. “I have compassion for your situation. You must be frustrated and upset…to see your husband so emasculated. I’ll give you a moment to say goodbye.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed as Diaz crossed his arms, backing up until he was leaning against the window. His lips twitched with a grin as he waved his hand in front of him, “go on.” He winked.

“You’re disgusting.” Felicity seethed.

Oliver sighed, “hey,” he spoke to her. Only her. Putting his index finger under her chin, he softly guided her gaze back to his own, giving her an ‘it’s okay’ smile. And then he nodded once, her eyes on his the whole time as they came to an understanding. She’d call Christopher Chance, whether he wanted her to or not. But it wasn’t a bad plan, and he trusted her to find the best way to make it work without anyone he loved suffering because of him. 

There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to kiss her while the sick freak in the corner watched, so he pressed his lips to her cheek, shifting his eyes to Diaz as Felicity hugged him one more time.

But then Oliver wondered where she was going to go. He didn’t even want her to have to pass by Diaz on her way out of the door, let alone have him leaving with her. Would he follow her home, try to hurt her? 

Oliver was just about ready to refuse to let her go, to make good on her words that he’d kill Diaz with his hand cuffed to the table if he had to.

Before he had to worry about it, the door swung open and Anatoly appeared, his hands behind his back. He was flanked by men that Oliver recognized from Russia…and he couldn’t help but smile in relief.

The Bratva were here.

“Mrs. Smoak,” Anatoly spoke with the confidence that made Oliver proud to call him a friend. The honor that made him admire him from the day they’d met. “Car is ready to take you home.”

“I drove myself,” Felicity frowned, glancing from Anatoly to Oliver.

He looked up at his wife, “let Anatoly and his men drive it, and you, home…please?” Felicity searched his eyes, finally nodding in agreement, probably hearing the desperation in his voice.

“What the hell is this?” Diaz asked, still leaning on the window as if the sight of the Russian mob wasn’t intimidating him.

Oh, but it was.

“This is Bratva, Mr. Diaz.” Anatoly said proudly, giving Diaz a smug smile.

“You said that they cast you out,” Diaz replied.

Glancing at Oliver, Anatoly winked, “Friend of mine fixed mistake, so I suggest you stay away from Queen family now.”

Ricardo’s eye actually twitched. Having The Bratva on their side, between Oliver’s contacts and Anatoly’s, they were already a step ahead of Diaz. Add in his brilliant wife and whatever she’d scheme up with Christopher Chance to drop a bomb on Diaz’s plan for the trial, and he felt more confident than he had since Diggle left the team.

He was proud, too. Of his friend and his wife. His friend, who he knew would keep Felicity safe, nodded to him in a silent promise. She was safe with Anatoly. The Bratva may be criminals themselves, but they could protect her and William. It lifted a burden from his chest to know that they could step in during his absence. And then there was his strong wife…and god, if that woman wasn’t the love of his life…she kissed his forehead before standing up and straightening her dress. 

Felicity only allowed one glance to Ricardo Diaz, her eyes shifting over him as if he was the gum on her shoe as she walked by.

The Dragon noticed, and he wasn’t backing down.

As Felicity moved past him, she was conscious not to let any part of her touch any part of him, squeezing between the table and where he stood. But Diaz grabbed her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. She froze for a moment, and Oliver did too.

Felicity tried to pull her arm away, and Diaz’s grip tightened. 

Anatoly took a step closer, and Oliver yanked on the cuffs, preparing to break his thumb and slip out of it if Diaz kept his hands on her for one more second…

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, Miss Smoak.” Diaz said, ignoring Oliver, ignoring Anatoly. His gaze and his words were focused on Felicity. “Maybe under less… _hospitable_ conditions next time.”

Felicity stared back, her own voice dropping to match Diaz’s, “wouldn’t that be unfortunate for you.”


	22. "You are not alone, and I believe in you"

_Anonymous said: #19 for the Out of Context prompts, please?_

_“You are not alone, and I believe in you.”_

* * *

 

“Hey,” Dinah started towards Oliver and Felicity as they came down the steps of the bunker, “sorry to call you guys, Curtis has a lead on the Longbow Hunters. We’re thinking they’re not going to stick around in Starling for much longer, so if we want to...” she trailed off, glancing at Oliver navigating the stairs like a toddler.

“Felicity is wearing a new bra. It’s red and I thought we were going home so I could see it, but now we’re here! Hi Dinah!”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Hm?” Felicity asked, glancing up at Oliver. “Oh,” she moved to take her husband’s hand, helping him down the last few steps. “He’s drunk.”

Dinah raised an eyebrow, “Oliver Queen? Drunk?”

“Uh huh,” Felicity nodded, grinning up at Oliver. “It hardly ever happens but it’s  _amazing_.”

He looked down at her, an equally loving smile covering his face, matching her expression. “ _You’re_ amazing, Felicity. I love you.”

She giggled, waving her hand out to Dinah, “see!?”

Rolling her eyes, Dinah sized Oliver up. “No way in hell he’s coming out into the field with us like that.”

“God no,” Felicity scoffed, ignoring Oliver as he started to play with her hair. “That’d be a disaster. He’ll stay with me. You guys can handle the Longbow Hunters, we just need to figure out what they’re here for and where they’re going next.”

Dinah nodded as she listened, her eyes darting to Oliver every few seconds. Felicity couldn’t blame her, she could tell that Oliver was practicing his braids, which was definitely only something he felt the need to do when he was intoxicated. He’d also confessed to her once, in a drunken stupor, that he wanted to get good at doing them in case they ever had a daughter. It warmed her heart to know that he thought about things like that, especially since he wasn’t exactly the oversharing, ‘let me tell you everything I’m thinking and feeling’ kind of man.

Oliver dropped her hair and threw his arms up, “Diggle!” he yelled, making her jump.

Chuckling, Dig came over to them, “he’s drunk, huh?”

Her husband’s eyes shifted between his partners, as if he was just now realizing where they were and what they were doing. “No,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl, doing his best to act sober. “Missions, plans, whatever, I’m the Green Arrow...suit up!”

“Yeah that sounds about right as far as your send-offs go,” Dig smirked, glancing at his friend with as much amusement as Felicity had. It was rare to see Oliver let go, and it was impossible not to get a kick out of it.

Leaning towards Dig, Oliver whispered as if Dinah and Felicity couldn’t hear him. “Have you ever had Donna Smoak’s ‘Holiday Party Eggnog?’”

“Yeah,” John answered, shaking his head and crossing his arms, “didn’t your wife warn you to only have one?”

“She did. But it was so good, I didn’t listen. I drank five.” Diggle tried not to laugh, crossing his arms and turning his attention back to Felicity and Dinah. Oliver nodded seriously, imitating John. “Well...I’m sure the Crossbow Hunters are just passing through-”

“The  _Long_ bow Hunters,” Curtis chimed in, spinning in his chair across the room.

“What did I say?” Oliver asked, frowning.

Felicity slid her hand down his back, “you guys go ahead, we’ll cover you on the comms.”

As they all headed out to suit up and have a chat with Starling’s newest problem, Oliver wandered over to the display cases, staring up at his suit. Felicity cocked her head to the side. She loved how unfiltered he was when he was drunk, and she opened her mouth to ask what he was thinking about before she thought better of it. She had work to do, and she knew she should get started while he was distracted. Drunk Oliver was adorable and sweet, but he also needed a lot of attention and affection. Which was so unlike him that Felicity  _loved_ to give it to him. 

She had the comms set up and the teams’ lines opened by the time Oliver sighed and looked back at her. “Felicity,” he started, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“Yeah?”

“Do I look that good?”

She hesitated, trying to understand what he meant. Pointing her pen up at his uniform, she raised her eyebrows. “As the mannequin?”

Oliver nodded, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Honey, you wear that suit better than anyone, inanimate dolls included.”

He perked up at the compliment, coming back over to her desk. Oliver sighed, leaning over her shoulder and frowning at the screens. The team was still on route, and she was tracking the van as they drove to the warehouse. Oliver groaned, turning his face towards her head and burying his nose in her hair. “You smell like strawberries,” he told her as he sniffed her.

She laughed, leaning her head up towards him. “You’re cute.”

Her husband’s lips trailed down to her neck, where he pushed her hair out of the way so he could kiss her skin. Felicity glanced at the little blue dot telling her that the team was about ten minutes out before her eyes slipped shut. She reached up to knot her fingers into Oliver’s hair. “You know what we haven’t done here,” he mumbled into her neck.

“What?” she asked breathlessly, tilting her head back against the chair, offering him more skin to kiss.

He didn’t hesitate, kissing his way from her neck to her ear, “well, our old bunker got destroyed...and we had plenty of memories down there...”

“You think we need to make new ones here?” She whispered, twisting around to look up at him. Oliver might be drunk, but there was never a moment when she didn’t feel wanted by him. The desire was always there, he was just a little better at knowing the right time and place when he was sober.

“No!” Rene’s voice boomed in her ear, loud enough for Oliver to hear, too. “Don’t even think about it, Hoss. If either of you remove even one piece of clothing in that bunker, I’ll burn it down. And then neither of y’all will be invited to the new one.”

Felicity cleared her throat, forgetting she still had her device on. “You almost there?”

“Yup,” Dinah answered, sounding ten times less affected than Rene. 

With the response, Felicity shut her mic off, setting it so that she could hear them but not the other way around. Not yet. She pointed a finger up at Oliver, “later,”

He smiled down at her, “later.”

Once the team was inside the building, Felicity turned her mic back on. She focused on watching their backs as they searched the halls, but Oliver also got bored and thought he should try to make some arrows. “Hey,” she whispered, getting his attention and waving him over. “You’re not doing any activities that include sharp objects while you’re drunk,” she shook her head, standing up from her chair. “Sit.”

Oliver obeyed, plopping himself down on her chair. She followed after him, settling onto his lap and refocusing on the mission while Oliver entertained himself by tracing his fingers over the freckles on her back.

“Dragon,” Curtis’ voice came through the comms.

“What?” Felicity asked.

“Ricardo Diaz is here. I’m up on the rafters, they can’t see me, but he’s part of this...whatever the Longbow Hunters are doing.”

“You have to get out of there,” she answered, fear settling into her stomach because Curtis of all people knew that Diaz was capable of giving him a beating. She felt Oliver’s fingers freeze, hearing her concern.

“Curtis,” Dinah’s voice cut in when Curtis didn’t respond. “Fall back, we weren’t prepared for Diaz. We need to regroup. Be smart.”

“Yeah,” Curtis sighed, and Felicity relaxed a bit, hearing him start to move. 

“Good?” Oliver mumbled, sounding more sober than he was. Felicity leaned back into his chest, her head falling against his shoulder as she nodded. Oliver kissed her cheek, sighing happily and wrapping his arms around her.

“Yeah,” she breathed, rubbing her hands over his arms, “good.”

Gunshots filled her earpiece, startling her. “Curtis!?” She lunged forward, tapping on the keys to see where he was. His thermals still showed him in the same room.

“We’re on our way to you, Terrific,” Diggle’s voice came through at the same time that unfamiliar voices started shouting ‘up there! Up there!’ and ‘vigilantes are here!’

“Hold on Curtis,” Dinah said lowly, her tense tone making Felicity panic a little more. 

“Lock the doors! Kill him!” Diaz’s men shouted through the sounds of bullets. It hurt her ear, but she didn’t dare take the earpiece out.

“Oh god,” Felicity cracked her knuckles, her eyes flying around the screens as she watched Curtis trying to find cover and the others rushing to help.

“Felicity,” Oliver leaned forward to, adjusting her so he could see the screen even though she doubted the little glowing dots indicating the team meant anything to him in his state of mind. “What can I do?” He asked, “how can I help?”

She ran her fingers through her hair and turned off her mic, trying to think. “I don’t know! Curtis is alone in there with fifty thugs and Diaz!”

“And you’re Felicity Smoak. You’ve saved me a thousand times. You can save Curtis.”

Felicity shook her head, watching Dinah’s purple light radiate from her dot, telling Felicity that she was trying to bust the door down with her scream. She didn’t know what to do. “Hey,” Oliver mumbled outside her ear, “you are not alone. And I believe in you.”

Her head whipped around to look at him, “okay, honey, that might have worked for you, but I don’t need an inspiring speech right now, I need a solution to get Curtis out of there!”

“Turn the lights off!” Her husband blurted.

“Oliver-” she grunted, about ready to tell him he needed to leave her alone so she could focus when she realized what he was getting at. “Curtis!” She yelled, coming back to the comms. “Turn on your night vision,” Felicity instructed, her fingers flying across the keys as she worked her magic. “It’s about to get dark in there.”

It was both satisfying and relieving to watch as Diaz and his men floundered in the dark, none of them wanting to open fire and risk shooting each other or getting shot. It was enough of a distraction that Curtis could sneak out in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, you’re brilliant,” she breathed, twisting around in Oliver’s lap and kissing him. He chuckled as she peppered his face with kisses, “thank you.”

“You did it,” he said happily.

“Thanks to you,” she ruffled his hair, “my gorgeous, genius husband. Maybe you should be the brains of this operation. Yeah,” she teased, “you can work the comms. The team can handle the ground work, and I can retire to Aruba.”

Oliver scoffed, “Felicity, I love you, but that’s the craziest thing that’s ever come out of your perfect mouth.” She snorted out a laugh as he closed his eyes. “First of all, there’s not a chance in hell I’m letting you retire to Aruba without me. That’s our spot. Second of all, you’re the brains. I’m the brawn. Dig’s the beauty...obviously.”

She laughed out loud now, drawing out a slow smile on his face. “But seriously,” he sighed, his eyes still closed, “you’re amazing. I know you’re amazing. Everyone on this team knows you’re amazing. So...just...stop saying those crazy words that were coming out of your mouth.”

“My  _perfect_ mouth,” she corrected.

Her husband let out a content sigh, “so true.”


	23. "My anger is dulling the pain"

anonymous  asked: If you haven't done it already, could you do #6 from the prompts?

_“This is going to hurt.” “My anger is dulling the pain.”_

Oliver limped into the bunker with Felicity under one arm, supporting him as he hobbled out of the elevator. “What the hell happened to you?” Dig asked.

William jumped up from the couch, “Dad?”

“I’m okay,” he gritted out, doing his best to sound like he wasn’t in pain. He’d had worse. Far worse. But it wasn’t really about the physical pain, although that was excruciating, it was his pride more than anything that had taken a hit.

“What happened?” John repeated, crossing his arms as Felicity eased her husband onto the couch.

Oliver’s eyes narrowed at his partner, pointing down at the arrow currently sticking out of his knee. His bad knee, no less. As if a criminal’s luck for choosing  _just_ the right spot to hit him didn’t make the whole thing even more embarrassing.

“I can see that,” Dig rolled his eyes, “how did you end up with your own arrow in your knee?”

“Dad, are you gonna be okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” John answered for him, patting William on the back, “can’t say I’ve ever seen him injured by his own weapons, but I guess there’s a first for everything.” 

His wife was already moving to the med table and picking out supplies, and Oliver kept his eyes on her as he answered, “I broke up the trade and took down the dealers. I uh…I guess I didn’t hurt one of them  _bad_ enough.”

Knowing that the answer was probably all they’d get out of Oliver, John glanced at Felicity as she came back over to the couch. “Oh, yeah. The guy got back up, found a stray arrow and just-” she gestured a stabbing motion, sound effect included as she used Oliver’s leg as the vivid target.

He glared up at her, and she smiled sweetly, running her hand through his hair and down his neck.

“He got the jump on you?” William asked with confusion. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“No,” Dig agreed, frowning. “It doesn’t.”

Oliver just pursed his lips, sliding his hand into Felicity’s as she sat down next to him, and John leaned over to examine the damage on his knee. “He may have been, uh, a little distracted.” Felicity mumbled.

“By what?” William asked.

“Well, we thought we took down all the crooks. And we knew you were going to be spending the next few hours down here with Dig…um, I just- I may have asked Oliver over the comms if he wanted dessert when we got home and he may have lost focus for like, half a second and…” she gestured to Oliver’s knee, a look of disgust crossing her face.

“But you can’t bake.” William argued. “I’ve only seen you make cookies once. And I had to supervise.”

“I can make a mean ice cream sunday and you know it!” She pointed her finger at her stepson.

“You’re saying Dad got hit with his own arrow because he was distracted by  _ice cream_?” The kid asked incredulously. Oliver groaned and closed his eyes, dropping his head against the back of the couch.

“To be fair, it was probably more about  _where_ I said he could eat-”

“Felicity!” Oliver interrupted, squeezing her hand and groaning again.

“Oh,” she flashed a smile, “right. Anyway, Dig…do we need a hospital or do you think you can get that sucker out?”

“I can do it,” he answered, more than happy to talk about anything else.

“Good, all we have for painkillers is the loopy stuff. You ready, honey?”

Oliver nodded, and she brought his hand to her mouth, kissing his fingers and letting go before standing up to give him the painkillers.

“This is going to hurt,” John warned.

“My anger is dulling the pain,” Oliver answered.

When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he felt was the irritation he’d had before he fell asleep. But his head was hazy, unable to form clear thoughts, and he couldn’t remember what he was mad about.

His knee was the next thing to get his attention. It didn’t hurt, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable. “Oh,” he breathed, looking down at his leg and seeing it all wrapped up in nice white gauze. 

“Well hey there, handsome.”

Oliver glanced up at the smiling blonde as she approached, taking a seat on the table by the couch he was on. “Hi, gorgeous,” was his immediate response, paired with an attempt at a sexy, charming smile. 

Because damn.

His vision was still a little cloudy, but he was certain she’d only get more beautiful the better he could see her. “Have you been taking care of me?” He asked, his voice thick with flirtation as he raised an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes, brushing her fingers through his hair and feeling his temperature at the same time. Oliver frowned at the caring, almost maternal gesture. “Are you my nurse?”

“Would you stop trying to be cute?” She giggled, leaning over him and kissing his temple and forehead a few times. Again, her touch was tender, but he knew she was trying to tell how warm he was. “How do you feel?” She muttered against his skin.

“hot,” he answered, looking up at her as she pulled back and moved the blanket off of him. “Really, what’s your name? What happened to me?”

Freezing, she stared down at him for a long moment, then she sighed. “Dig!” She yelled suddenly, making him jump. “I think I was a bit too generous with my husband’s dosage!”

His eyes immediately fell to her left hand. “Husband?”

“The one and only.”

“Me?”

She nodded, giving him the cutest smile he’d ever seen. “Woah,” Oliver breathed. “What’s your name?” He asked again.

“Felicity.” She tried not to laugh, but he could see it in her eyes. “Just give yourself a few minutes to wake up, your head’ll clear up.”

“And you’re  _my_ wife?”

“Uh huh,” she said happily, lifting her hand up for him to see. She wore it proudly, and the way she bit her lip as she showed it off to him was possibly the sexiest thing he would ever see. He caught her fingers, analyzing the ring.

“Holy shit.” Felicity laughed when he frowned, “ _this_ is the ring I gave you? No diamond? What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey,” she pouted as she pulled her hand away. “I like my ring. Shut up.”

Oliver grinned, “I guess only my wife can get away with telling me to shut up.”


	24. "Welcome to the Suicide Squad" ARGUS Part 3

_“Give me a break. This ain’t no task force. Let’s call it like it is. Welcome to the Suicide Squad.”_

_A.R.G.U.S agents AU Parts[1](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F14957309%2Fchapters%2F34661439&t=MjU5YWE1MDM5ZGFlNzMyYWU4OWIxZDcyMDgzZWE3NzRmY2I1MDcxYywwbFpYbVpFeA%3D%3D&b=t%3AfOl6jXrwLGroyIH5zb4zrA&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsmoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F175169751764%2Farrow-out-of-context-part-2-10-give-me-a) & [2](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F14957309%2Fchapters%2F34662153&t=YjliYzM5NWRmNGYzZmQ4NGE2MzQyN2RhODExMjZlNDI2ZWU2NGQzOCwwbFpYbVpFeA%3D%3D&b=t%3AfOl6jXrwLGroyIH5zb4zrA&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsmoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F175169751764%2Farrow-out-of-context-part-2-10-give-me-a)   _

* * *

 

When they’d given her the tour of the A.R.G.U.S facility, Felicity remembered the mysterious door the guide had conveniently ignored. He’d walked by it without even looking, jumping into the next department, private investigations and external affairs, and explaining what they did for the government.

Felicity had mostly forgotten about it, assuming that the door was probably just a storage closet or something. Plus her brain had been overloaded with everything and everyone she’d learned about during the tour. It was easy to forget the inconspicuous little door.

Wondering where Oliver could be is what reminded her of the door. It was the only place in the building that she hadn’t seen. And Felicity hated mysteries.

She knew that Oliver oversaw some kind of task force. He’d said as much when he introduced himself at training. But she didn’t realize the extent of what his black ops team did. Not until she’d been standing outside of Director Michaels’ door listening to her argue with Oliver.

After their talk in the hallway, she’d tried to find him again around meal times and in the training gyms, but he hadn’t come in all week. Yet, she knew he had to be  _somewhere_. An important government official couldn’t just run off without her knowing about it. As the best security analyst A.R.G.U.S had to offer, she rationalized that if Oliver had fallen off the grid, Director Michaels would want to find him. And tracking a rogue agent would require  _her_ skill set. Which led Felicity to believe that Oliver was avoiding her.

Making her way through the halls, Felicity smiled and nodded at her fellow agents as she passed, putting on her best ‘no, I’m not doing anything suspicious here,’ act.

When she finally reached the door, she checked that the coast was clear before hacking the lock pad and letting herself in. “Don’t mind if I do,” she muttered under her breath, feeling a little bit disappointed that it was so easy to get in.

The hallway she found herself in was dark, the only light coming from the tiny windows on the doors that lined each wall. She slowly stepped towards the first one, glancing inside. A red haired woman was pacing the floor of her apparent cell, speaking heatedly like she was in an argument even though no one else was in the room.

Across from the redhead, a man sat on the edge of the bed in his own cell, looking down at his feet. Felicity couldn’t help but notice the prisoner’s patch covering his eye. Unlike the woman, he glanced up at her, immediately smirking. “Well, you don’t look like you belong here, sweetheart.” He said, and Felicity yelped, surprised that she could hear him since the other woman was muted.

Her head whipped back to look at the red haired woman, continuing to silently talk to herself and pace, completely unaware that Felicity was standing in front of her. The man with the eye patch chuckled, and Felicity quickly looked back to him. “We made her room soundproof,” he explained, “for all of our sanity.”

“You must be agent Queen’s team,” Felicity whispered, knowing that as far as restricted areas went, this place was a definite no-no. Being here was probably a stunt that could get her fired.

“What’s left of it,” he grinned. “We recently lost our resident idiot.” The man lifted his eyes to the ceiling and placed a hand on his heart, “rest his stupid, stupid soul.”

As he shook his head with sarcastic mourning, Felicity stared at him. “Who are you?”

“Floyd Lawton,” he answered. And then he winked at her, “but you can call me Deadshot.”

She cocked her head to the side, “why would I call you that?”

“Because I don’t miss,” his eyes roamed down her body, “ _any_ of my targets.”

“Boasting your ability to kill through innuendos…” Felicity quirked an eyebrow, “is that your idea of flirting?”

Floyd Lawton chuckled, “I like my women feisty.” Felicity opened her mouth to answer, but then she heard the door being unlocked, someone typing in a code on the other side. “Uh-oh,” Deadshot sang, “princess is in trouble.”

Her head snapped back towards him, “I am  _not_ a princess.” She defended, but Lawton just raised his eyebrows as he glanced pointedly down at her high heels. So she liked to look nice, sue her.

Distracted, Felicity continued to stand in the hallway, glaring at Deadshot. Not that she would have been able to get very far in the five seconds it took for Oliver to come in, or that she had anywhere to go.

The hallway was lined with padded cells, but it only had one exit. As Oliver stepped through the door, she froze. He was looking down at a file in his hands, flipping through the pages as he walked. It took him a moment, but when he glanced up and his eyes landed on her, he stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked surprised. And then he looked confused.

And then he just looked angry.

“How the hell did you get in here?” He growled, moving towards her again, this time with a purpose. When he reached her, Oliver grabbed her arm, his fingers gripping her elbow as he started to pull her away.

“Where you takin’ her, boss?” Lawton asked, leaning against the glass, “let her stay for a while.”

Oliver slammed his palm against the glass window of his cell, “shut up,” he snapped, pulling on Felicity’s arm again.

“This is your team? Task Force X, right?” She asked, resisting. Oliver just shot her a warning look, his eyes flashing with annoyance, probably because he was realizing how much of his conversation with Director Michaels she’d been eavesdropping on.

Deadshot scoffed from his cell,  “give me a break. This ain’t no task force. Let’s call it like it is.” He lifted his arms out, bowing slightly as he smirked at her. “Welcome to the Suicide Squad.”

She could hear a low growl in the back of Oliver’s throat as he tugged on her arm again, and Felicity didn’t fight him. She wasn’t really in a rush to strike up a conversation with a psychopath that was proud of his accuracy in killing people…or the woman who was still rambling on to herself, tuned out from their presence. “Time to go,” Oliver muttered.

Felicity half expected him to shove her through the door and slam it in her face by the way he was nudging her out. But he followed her out into the hallway, turning to her with irritation in his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I wanted to talk to you. I haven’t seen you around.”

He glanced down at her, “we did talk. We decided that I’m an asshole and I don’t deserve you. I thought we’d at least agreed on that.”

She let out a huff of surprise at his bluntness before answering. “I meant that I want to talk to you about your  _team_ ,” she answered, raising her eyebrows, “but hey, I guess if you want to discuss all of this sexual tension we have going on here, we can do that, too.”

His eyes sparked with amusement as he shook his head, the smallest of smiles pulling up the corner of his mouth.

He lightened up, which was exactly what she’d been trying to achieve.

Oliver sighed, “you’re not getting involved with my team,” he said gently. “Even if I  _wasn’t_ dealing with manic criminals, it’s not appropriate for a rookie to be mixed up in this operation. You’re an analyst, Felicity. It’s not safe for you.” He pointed at the door, “you shouldn’t even have been in there.”

“I can help.”

Oliver’s eyes softened as she stared up at him, begging him to let her in. And he shook his head, “It’s too dangerous, Felicity.”

“Is this about me being a rookie, or is it about something else?”

He cocked his head to the side, “can’t it be about both?”

“Depends on what the ‘something else’ is.” She replied.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt. These missions involve a team of black ops criminals… _unstable killers_ …and they’re risky enough that Director Michaels won’t let even the most respected A.R.G.U.S agents participate.” Oliver met her eyes, “Task Force X is expendable to her,” he finished, mumbling lowly and she could see the pain in his eyes. She knew instantly what he was thinking about it. The member of his team he’d had to put down.

“So who has your back then?” She whispered, stepping closer to him. “Who keeps  _you_ safe?”

Oliver’s eyes flew to hers, surprised by the question. But he didn’t look away. In fact, he stepped closer. Oliver tilted his face down to hers, nodding once before he whispered, “I do.”

“How is that working out for you?”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?”

Felicity narrowed her eyes, “ _alive_ doesn’t mean that you’re  _okay_.”

His eyes shifted between hers, something so strong and raw in his gaze and in the connection that she felt, there wasn’t a chance in hell that she could keep on ignoring it. “You told me you’re not the person who can harness the light inside me, Oliver…” she whispered lowly, her heart racing at how close he was, his face inches from hers. “But I don’t feel darkness when I’m with you.”

All she’d have to do was turn her chin up and she could kiss him. The energy was electric, exciting, and  _bright_. She needed more of it.

Just as she was about to make the decision, to find out if she was right about the spark by kissing him, the sound of someone clearing their throat made Oliver flinch, quickly pulling back from Felicity. She opened her eyes to find Director Michaels standing a few feet away. Her arms were crossed, her shoulders stiff, and her expression was that of a disapproving superior. “Agent Smoak, may I speak with you in my office?”

It wasn’t high school. Sure, agents dating, or more specifically, almost kissing in the hallway, was probably frowned upon. But it wasn’t like there were rules against it. She would know. Felicity had read the training manual cover to cover. The only enforced rules at A.R.G.U.S were about government security and confidentiality.

With a sigh, Felicity took a step to follow Director Michaels, but Oliver’s hand on her waist stopped her from brushing by him. “What for?” He asked, his eyes trained on Lyla with caution.

The director raised a confident eyebrow at him as if to say ‘are you questioning me?’ But Oliver didn’t move his hand, and Felicity couldn’t help but wait to see what Michaels would say. “That’s not really your business, agent Queen,” she told him sternly, but Felicity swore she saw a brief break of amusement on the woman’s face.

“It’s fine,” Felicity mumbled to Oliver, not used to anyone acting so protectively over her. She patted his hand, gently moving it away so she could go with Lyla Michaels.

And as she followed the director, Felicity glanced over her shoulder at Oliver, not missing the concern etched between his eyebrows.

“You can relax, agent Smoak,” Lyla said as they reached her office. “I just want to ask you for a favor.”

“Okay…”

“Oliver has a task force, has he told you about them?” Felicity bit her lip, giving an impassive shrug. Michaels took it as confirmation anyway. “He’s the best agent I have for the job. Don’t tell him I told you this, but he’s kind of the  _only_ agent who can lead that team…and I’m afraid that he’ll quit on me if we keep doing things this way. My way.”

“You mean the exploding microchips.” Lyla leveled her with a look, and Felicity smiled sheepishly. “He didn’t tell me that, I was outside your door last week.”

“I figured as much,” Director Michaels said, taking a seat behind her desk and leaning back in the chair. “So, can you come up with a better way?”

“I’d have to look at the chip…but I could probably work with it. Make it so that the effect is, uh, less fatal. I think I could redesign it so that it shuts down the nerves in their legs, paralyzes them…or maybe I could adapt it to release a strong sedative to their brains that would knock them out.”

Lyla nodded along. “Sounds perfect. Get to work. You head out in twenty four hours.”

“Head out?” Felicity asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I have a replacement lined up for Shrapnel. A woman whose been stalking her father around the world for three years.”

“Daddy issues…never thought to chase mine after he abandoned us,” Felicity cringed.

“Oh no, she’s been trying to kill him.” Director Michaels said bluntly. “And leaving a trail of bodies in her wake.”

Felicity’s eyes widened, “ _oh_ -”

“Task Force X will find her in Ivy Town.” Lyla straightened the papers on her desk, picking up a pen and focusing on the reports in front of her as if the mission she’d just described was an everyday thing. For A.R.G.U.S, it probably was. But for her… “Like I said, you leave in twenty four hours.”

When Felicity didn’t respond, Michaels glanced up at her, “that’ll be all, agent Smoak.”

Taking the hint, Felicity cleared her throat and stood up, exiting her office without another word. She felt a little overwhelmed as she wandered down the hall towards her sleeping quarters. She had twenty four hours to not only create a modified chip that  _hopefully_ wouldn’t kill Oliver’s team if they misbehaved, but she also had to wrap her head around the idea of running off to chase a serial killer after only three weeks on the job.

Oliver was leaning against the wall outside of her door, and he straightened when he saw her coming towards him. He stared down at her as she reached him, questions in his eyes that he wasn’t asking. “Do you want to come in?” She whispered.

He pressed his lips together and avoided her offer, “what did Lyla want?”

“Didn’t she tell you to mind your own business?” Felicity countered, crossing her arms uncomfortably, unsure if she should open her door and try to invite him in again, or if they were just going to continue standing in the hall. After everything he’d been saying, she knew that he really wasn’t going to be happy about this.

“Felicity,” he said lowly, his eyebrows furrowing, “please.”

She sighed, “she wants what I want. For me to help you.”

The worry on his face grew a bit darker, his eyes telling her to explain more.

“I’ll be going with you on your mission to Ivy Town.”


	25. "Don't ask me to say that I don't love you"

Arrow Out of Context [Part 3](http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/post/178064640079/arrow-out-of-context-sentence-prompts-part-three) has begun!

Head over to Tumblr. [Send ](http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/ask)me a number!

* * *

 

“He’s not coming, is he?”

Felicity met her best friend’s eyes through the mirror. Sara huffed, glancing away as she pulled the strings on Felicity’s dress tighter. “No. He’s not.”

Blinking back the tears that immediately stung her eyes, Felicity let out a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can do this without him,” she whispered, “he’s always the one who keeps me calm.”

Sara pursed her lips, looking like she had something to say. After a moment of silence, she stepped back. “All done. You look amazing, Felicity.”

She moved closer to the mirror, staring at her own face. And she hated that the doubt she felt rising in her stomach was present in her eyes, too. “Sara…” she said slowly, “am I making a mistake?”

Her friend froze for the tiniest moment, but then she shrugged. “I think that you should think about why you would even think to ask that question.”

“That’s a lot of thinking.”

“Well, most people do a lot of it before they decide to get married.”

Felicity nodded, staring at Sara. The implication was obvious. Felicity hadn’t done too much soul searching. She’d been going along with Ray Palmer’s plans since the day she met him.  

Sara began to pace the room looking for Felicity’s shoes, avoiding eye contact. “Why isn’t he here?”

Stopping her search under the couch, Sara looked up at her. “You know why,” Sara breathed, trying to hide the edge of irritation in her tone. “You’ve always known. You’ve just never wanted to talk about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Felicity insisted, her back stiffening.

Her best friend just sighed. Finding the shoes in the corner of the room, she picked them up and brought them over. “Fine, Felicity,” Sara said, placing the heels in her hands. She smiled, but her eyes were sad with pity. “I don’t know if this is a mistake. Only you can know the answer to that. But I truly hope that you’re happy with the decisions that you’ve made.”

Glancing away, Felicity put her shoes on and followed Sara into the hallway. Her friends were all lined up at the door in their matching dresses and tuxes, ready to walk down the aisle and stand beside her on her big day.

Everyone but him.

Iris met her eyes and offered an encouraging wink. Even in the gesture of support, Felicity saw the same pity that had rested in Sara’s expression.

Barry touched her shoulder as he passed, getting into his position to walk beside his wife. “You look beautiful, Felicity. Even if it’s not exactly what we imagined, we’re all so happy for you.”

“Thank you, Barry.” Her smile flickered, cocking her head to the side, “what do you mean it’s not what you imagined?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Barry made a few incoherent noises before Dinah swooped in, looping her arm through his. “Come on speedster, almost time to go.” She nodded to Felicity, “you’re gorgeous, I love you, see you out there.” And then she was pulling Barry towards the door.

Felicity took a deep breath, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress as she heard the music start to play.

Her wedding party got themselves in order; picking up their bouquets and fixing their hair. And then the doors opened, and Thea and Cisco took their first steps. As panic settled in her gut, Felicity stared straight ahead.  _You can do this._  Yet she wasn’t sure if the nauseous feeling was typical wedding jitters or something else entirely.

John came up beside her while she stared at the back of Caitlin’s head, her friend preparing to walk down the aisle alone thanks to her no-show groomsman. “You ready?” Dig asked.

“It doesn’t feel right to do this without him.” She blinked, knowing now that the tears springing to her eyes were not normal…

“Felicity,” he squeezed her hand, “are you ready?” Her eyes flickered up to his, hearing a different question in his tone. After years of friendship, she knew what John Diggle was really asking.  _Are you ready to spend the rest of your life with Ray? Is this really what you want?_

Caitlin was on her way to the front of the crowd, and the people in their seats were starting to turn around and look at Felicity. She felt hazy, her legs shaking. But she instinctively began to walk, letting John keep her steady. 

It was what she’d practiced. It was what she’d planned. What she thought she was excited for.  _Then why does it suddenly feel wrong?_

Ray smiled at her as she made her way down the aisle, and she forced one back.  _This is insane. Of course you want to marry him._   _You said yes for a reason._

But when she reached her future husband, standing in front of him, it wasn’t his his eyes that she wanted to be looking into.

Years of suppressing those feelings made the realization feel like a ton of bricks.

“You okay?” Ray mouthed to her, taking both of her hands.

She felt like she hadn’t breathed since she started walking towards him. And if that wasn’t a sign…she didn’t know what was. Felicity had no idea how she’d feel on her wedding day. But she’d never imagined  _this_. Her head began to shake, answering his silent question.

Ray’s brow furrowed, and Felicity stared up at him with wide eyes. She imagined that she looked as panicked as she felt. Terrified. A deer caught in the headlights before a deadly collision. “I’m sorry,” she finally breathed, her eyes slipping shut.

When she opened them again, Ray was looking at her with desolate eyes. She was breaking his heart. And she knew it. She knew that walking away was exactly the kind of cliche drama she hated. But in the long run, she also knew that marrying him would be worse for both of them.

Because Oliver’s place in her heart was never going anywhere.

She just felt like a total idiot that her timing was so horrendous. “I’m sorry,” she tried to whisper, just for Ray. “I can’t do this.”

He nodded, swallowing back emotion that made her feel guilty. “It’s him, isn’t it? It’s always been him.”

Felicity shook her head, “I don’t know…” she bit her lip, refusing to look at the crowd as they coughed and shifted in their seats uncomfortably, probably sensing that something was wrong. “I just know that this doesn’t…I can’t.”

Ray smiled at her sadly. “Go, I’ll take care of them.” Blinking back tears, he dropped her hands, preparing to face the guests. As Felicity stepped away from him, she could hear the people beginning to whisper, and she wanted to be far, far away.

Felicity moved towards Sara, who raised an eyebrow. Leaning in so even the other bridesmaids couldn’t hear, she asked, “where is he?”

Sara grinned for a fleeting moment before remembering that all eyes were on her. “Bar down the street,” she whispered back.

Nodding, Felicity lifted her dress and headed for the back door, not daring to turn around or meet anyone else’s judgmental gaze.

Luckily the bar was close, and she knew how to run in heels. It didn’t stop people from staring, though. The looks she received as she bolted down the street were much worse than when she’d barfed in the middle of the hallway in eighth grade. She didn’t think anything could be more embarrassing than  _that_. But she was wrong.

Still, Felicity ran. She didn’t care about changing her clothes or gathering her thoughts. Felicity didn’t stop until she was bursting through the doors of the dive-bar she knew he would have walked into.

Oliver’s eyes darted up to the door as her wedding dress caught his attention. And everyone else’s in the bar. She avoided all of them, rolling her eyes as she confronted him. “Why didn’t you come?”

His eyes traveled from her hair to her toes and back. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“That’s what I’m asking you!” She hissed, striding over to him, gripping the chair beside him but too fired up to sit down,

Shaking his head, Oliver took a big pull of his beer, looking away from her. “Don’t do this, Felicity. Go back to the venue, fix your hair, and marry the man of your dreams. That’s what you want, right? Palmer’s the Prince Charming you’ve always hoped would sweep you off your feet.” He grumbled the words, picking at the label on his beer bottle and not meeting her eyes. “You deserve that, Felicity. So don’t ruin it over me.”

“Don’t tell me what I deserve,” she seethed, “tell me why you’re here day drinking instead of standing beside me on my wedding day.”

His eyes darted up to hers, angry. “Do you really want me to say it?” She nodded. “After all these years,  _now_ is when you’re finally ready to let me tell you? No more pushing me away or dangling maybes.”

“Yes!” Felicity cried, her voice cracking. 

“I’m in love with you!” He threw his hands up. “I’ve been in love with you for almost a decade, Felicity! I thought I could do it, okay? I thought for once, I could  _not_ be selfish. I thought I could laugh at all of Ray’s stupid jokes and smile for all the stupid pictures but I  _can’t_!” His chest heaved as they stared at each other, trying to calm down before he spoke again. “You mean way too fucking much to me.”

“I know I ran scared every time you got too close. There were hundreds of moments when I thought we might cross that line, and I know that I was always the one to pull away. But why didn’t you just tell me how you feel anyway?”

He laughed once without even a trace of humor. “And risk losing you forever? I had my chance, Felicity.”

Her eyebrows pushed together, staring at him like he had six heads. “In college?” She gaped. He gritted his teeth, nodding once. “Oliver, we were eighteen. We were just kids.”

“I asked you out, and I never thought you’d say yes. I fell in love with you on our first and only date, Felicity. But I was terrified, so I ruined it.”

“That’s why you slept with Isabel Rochev the next day?” Her nose scrunched with disgust at the memory of knocking on his door that night, ready to ask him to go on one of their routine late night walks. And found him half naked with Isabel. “I thought you just didn’t like me and had a really shitty way of telling me…” It’d hurt enough that she froze him out after that. But they’d eventually gotten back on track as friends…and stayed that way.

“I was…so not ready for you.” Oliver pushed his bottle aside, turning to face her. He looked her up and down again. “I should have waited to ask you out. I should have waited until I deserved you…until I deserved to be the man standing  _in front_  of you on your wedding day…not beside you.”

“Oliver…”

He closed his eyes, “please don’t, Felicity. This is hard enough as it is, and I know that you’re always trying to save me, but you need to let me deal with this my way. Please…you can’t be the one to fix this for me. Not this time.” He licked his lips, trying to smile. “I promise I’ll be fine. I have Thea, and John, Sara—”

“I’m in love with you, too.” Felicity interrupted.

She held her breath as he stared at her. His eyes were wide and hopeful, like he wasn’t sure if he could believe her. But he wanted to. “I didn’t marry Ray, I couldn’t…because I realized that I am very much in love with you, Oliver Queen.” She gave him a teary smile. “I think I always have been.”

Oliver shook his head, disbelief coloring his face. “No…you’re not. Stop, Felicity. You’re upset, and confused, and afraid…but please don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Feeling more like herself than she had in a long time, Felicity swatted his arm. “I know you’re bossy, but…” she rolled her eyes, “don’t ask me to say that I don’t love you.”

She’d lost herself in Ray Palmer’s expensive romance. All the fancy dinners, designer dresses, and beautiful jewelry had tricked her. She lost sight of what love was really about. Arguing with Oliver in a dive bar…that was love.

Anywhere with him, really. That was home.

The guilt she felt for running away from her wedding was still there, as uncomfortable as the loosened hair pins digging into her scalp. But there was also relief. Clarity. Oliver barely blinked as he stared up at her, “I guess we should talk about this then.”

Reaching over, she took his hand, tugging on him until he stood up. “Okay, so let’s get out of here.”

Nodding, Oliver dropped some money on the bar and laced his fingers through hers. “Maybe we should get out of town for a few days…” he suggested as they left the bar, “figure this out just the two of us.”

“Yes,” she groaned, “then when we get back, you can hold my hand while I face the music of being a runaway bride.”

Oliver squeezed her fingers reassuringly, glancing down at her, “always.”


	26. "You can call me nothing" Buried Alive Part 1

**Anonymous said: If I request a bunch is that obnoxious? Lol feel free to pick and choose: 1, 5, 7, 21, 22**

 

 

 

Before anyone yells at me...there will be sequels!!! :)

 

_"John."_

_"My friends call me Dig. You should call me nothing."_

* * *

 

Getting called into work at 3:00am was not his idea of fun. Far from it. 

But with a quick stop at a 24-hour fast food place, he walks into the office, trying to pretend he isn’t as tired as he really is.

If he shows weakness, sluggishness, then that makes it okay for his team to slack. And considering the frantic phone call he’d received from Curtis Holt an hour ago, this is a case that needs their full attention. Their A game.

Oliver pushes through the doors of the conference room, setting the iced coffee he’d ordered for Sara down in front of her. His partner groans with appreciation, but says nothing. He’s perceptive enough to catch the glances from the other agents, but he ignores them, keeping his expression stern. How he and Sara spend their free time is none of their concern.

Taking the seat at the head of the table, Oliver leans towards Curtis, gesturing for him to explain what’s brought them all to work in the dead of night.

His team hovers around the room, all of them looking tired and inattentive. Oliver’s eyes flicker to Curtis, who sits at the conference table with his laptop open, his fingers typing furiously across the keys.

“What do we have?” Oliver asks lowly, knowing that like many cases, until Curtis worked his magic, the rest of the FBI will be useless.

“An SOS was triggered somewhere in the mountains between here and Central City.” Curtis replies, not looking up from his screen. “I tried to narrow it down as soon as it reached us, but I haven’t had any luck. Whoever is doing it...they’re honing in, boosting the connection. All I can do is wait until it’s enough to pinpoint.” Suddenly, a grid of the Holland Forest appears on the screen behind him, and Oliver turns to watch as Curtis showcases the narrowing signal, giving his team a visual.

“Not only that, but whoever triggered this sent it directly to the bureau,” Curtis explains,  “I armed these systems and encrypted the data myself. I can assure you, this is no amateur. Whoever is doing this knows exactly how to work their way around a firewall.”

“So you think it could be a trap?” Sara mumbles, her eyebrows furrowing as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Someone sending this signal out for us to follow, leading us to a landmine?”

Curtis shrugs in response, “it’s possible...although logically, I think if that were the case, the signal would be more precise. It’s like the person doing this is still  _trying_ to zone in.”

“Maybe hackers aren’t as smart as they think they are,” Sara retorts, smirking at Curtis. To his credit, he simply shrugs, not bothering to be baited by the constant teasing he’s been subjected to for the last few months. He is green. The newest member on the squad. But it also doesn’t help that he’s their first and only non-field agent. He works from the office, while the rest of them puts on bulletproof vests and loads their guns. 

Oliver had quickly learned the value of a teammate like Curtis and gained an appreciation for what he could do. Others on the team, like Sara, were a bit more hesitant to the change. They have a hard time respecting someone who isn’t risking his life for the team like the rest of them.

Still, Oliver was hoping they’d come around. He’d also meant to tell Sara to back off, but they didn’t really discuss work. Or much of anything.

“Curtis,” Oliver says, getting the attention of the chuckling team, “you keep working to get a better location on the SOS. The rest of you, get dressed.”

“You’re kidding,” of course, it’s Rene who starts the complaining. But the others aren’t far behind.

Holding up a hand, Oliver throws hard glances at the loudest whiners, reminding them who is in charge. “We head out for Holland Forest in fifteen.”

Rene points up at the screen, “that’s forty miles of trees, hoss,” He argues. “What the hell are we supposed to do? Start turning up rocks for a Curtis wanna-be? We don’t even know that this isn’t some stupid college kid seeing if he can hack the FBI.”

To be fair, that had happened once. But that was before they brought Curtis in. Since then, Oliver had become quite confident that no one would be able to stumble into their business.

“If Curtis says it wasn’t an accident, then it wasn’t an accident, Ramirez,” Oliver says sternly. “If there is someone out there who needs our help, and we ignore it because you want a few extra hours of beauty sleep...your head will be the first in the guillotine.”

With narrowed eyes, Rene steps towards him, and Oliver could feel the rest of the room freeze. “Are we going off your gut again here, Oliver?” 

He asks as if Oliver Queen’s gut isn’t a valid member of the team. As if the idea is ridiculous. As if his judgment hadn’t gotten them out of dangerous situations on numerous occasions. Oliver doesn’t bother responding, he just narrows his eyes at his agent. He knows better than anyone that engaging Rene into an argument is like fighting with a relentless three year old.

“His instinct saved your life ten times over, you idiot.” It was Sara who broke the silence, cutting through the tension.

Oliver closes his eyes, wishing her temper didn’t rival his own. Because...

Ramirez takes the very obvious shot, wheeling towards Sara as if he expected her to defend Oliver.

He slams his hands down on the table in front of her, smiling, knowing that he’d gotten the reaction he’d been trying to provoke. Even if it wasn’t from Oliver. “Defending your boyfriend, Lance?” Rene sneers, “or is he just a fuck buddy? Are we still supposed to pretend we don’t know, or are you two finally going to air out the dirty laundry? See, I feel like we should know. If Queen is going to take a bullet for you, while he lets me die, that’s information I think should be shared with the group.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Rene,” Sara rolls her eyes, completely unfazed by the fact that the elephant in the room was finally being addressed. Oliver knew that they knew. He’s a detective, after all. “Everyone on this team would rather run into a burning building after a kitten before they saved your ass.”

Oliver has to work very hard not to let his lips curve into a smile as Rene’s face twists with irritation and their teammates laugh. “All right, that’s enough,” Oliver mutters. “I said get dressed, we head out—”

“Hello?” 

The team sobers as a woman’s voice rings out from Curtis’ computer. Oliver darts to his side, not seeing anything different aside from a tiny box in the corner that reads the audio from wherever the woman is, spiking when she coughs. “Hello?”

“What the hell is that?” Oliver snaps.

“The SOS signal...” Curtis’ fingers move unnaturally fast. “I didn’t do it.” He shakes his head in awe. “This is all her.”

“Can anyone hear me?” The voice asks.

Oliver’s eyes are glued to the screen.

He’d been in this life long enough to recognize desperation in someone’s voice. Raw, terrified desperation. And it somehow sounds worse on this mystery woman.

Curtis pulls out his phone, plugging it into his computer and making his skill look like an Olympic sport as he types furiously.

“ _Please_ ,” she chokes.

“Curtis...” Oliver has no idea why his throat is tight. He’d  _seen_ a lot worse. He’d watched life die in a man’s eyes. Held mothers who would never see their sons and daughters again. But somehow this voice...it tears through his chest, cutting into him unexpectedly. He  _has_ to help her.

“I can piggyback the channel,” Curtis answers, “I just have to merge the connection and—” the screen of his phone turns blue, and he picks it up immediately, “hello?”

“Hello?” The woman asks, louder this time. “Oh my god, you can hear me?”

Curtis smiles as Oliver takes the phone. “yes. Yes, we can hear you.”

“Oh my god,” the woman breathes. “You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice. Or someone’s voice. Not you specifically, whoever you are. Are you with the FBI? I’ve been trying to reach the FBI but I’ve had no fracking clue if it’s working or not.”

Looking around the room, Oliver sees that his whole team is attentive now. “Ma’am...” Oliver mumbles, “what’s your name?”

He hears her let out a deep breath. “Felicity Smoak.” Oliver nods even though she can’t see it, silently encouraging her to continue as he stares at the screen, watching the sound waves on Curtis’ computer spike with each noise she makes. “My name is Felicity Smoak. And I’m pretty sure I’ve been buried alive.”

The room becomes eerily quiet, each agent raking their mind for the last time they’d heard  _that_. Oliver’s heart sinks into his stomach. “Felicity...talk to me. What do you see? What do you feel and hear?”

“I can’t see anything,” she answers. “But it smells musty, like dirt. And it’s cold. I’m in some sort of box. I felt around until I found a camera. He’s using a hotspot to connect to it, and I jammed the signal and rerouted it to you. I...I didn’t know where else to send it. I thought you people might be my best bet.”

“No, that’s incredible, Felicity.” Oliver tells her, feeling a spark of pride for the stranger. A woman who refuses to let a terrifying situation paralyze her. A fighter. “Can you hear anything? Cars, water, anything that might help us find you?”

He holds his breath as she hesitates, listening. “No,” she finally sighs. “I can’t hear  _anything_. I have no idea...oh god, how far underground am I? Can you develop claustrophobia at twenty five? Because I’ve never been claustrophobic but I swear this box is getting smaller. Oh my god, oh my  _god!_ ” 

Oliver can hear her breath hitching, hysteria rising. She’d probably been so focused on connecting with them that she didn’t let herself panic before. Smart girl. But now that she’s realizing how hard it will be for them to find her, even with the narrowed down location...

“Felicity,” Oliver leans toward the phone, closing his eyes and ignoring his team. He was hardly ever the one to comfort the people they saved. But obviously he knows how to handle it. How to calm someone down. “Listen to my voice and take deep breaths,” he instructs. “We’re going to find you, okay? You’re going to be just fine.”

“Okay,” Felicity gasps, and he can tell that she is trying to stay calm. “Okay.”

Oliver looks up at Sara, and he can see that she’s thinking the same thing as him. 

There was only one case that had all of these elements. Holland Forest. People being taken without a trace. Buried alive. And what came later was truly the terrifying part...

Oliver shakes his head, forcing himself not to wonder if Felicity Smoak will have the same fate. She  _won’t_. 

It was a case he’d learned about from his mentor. A case that had ruined the career and life of that same man. Nodding once to Sara, Oliver knows that she’ll understand when he says, “call him.” 

As she walks out of the room, Oliver refocuses on the woman, “okay Felicity, my friend Curtis is the best cyber analyst at the bureau. And it seems like you’re quite the genius yourself.” She laughs a little bit at that, making him pause in surprise. “Between the two of you, I know we can get a closer location on you. Can you do that? Can you help Curtis?”

“Ye...yes.”

“Good. Good, Felicity. You’re going to be okay.”

He listens as she inhales and exhales, trying to slow her breathing down. “What’s your name?” She finally asks weakly.

“Oliver.”

“Thank you, Oliver.”

* * *

 

After making sure that Felicity is getting enough air, that she’s calming down and thinking straight, he clears the room and leaves the phone with Curtis, giving him some space to work. He can  already hear Felicity troubleshooting suggestions as he walks out of the room, and he can’t help but be impressed.

Fight or flight is real. But the theory neglects the most common reaction to something horrifying. From his experience, most people freeze. Their minds go blank, their muscles brace, and they don’t react at all.

But the woman on the phone was all fight. He could tell, from the moment she woke up in that box, she’d been fighting.

Waiting by the door isn’t necessary, since John Diggle knows his way around headquarters just fine. But Oliver wanted to get the initial, inevitably awkward greeting out of the way before they went upstairs and became the spectacle of the department’s gossips.

FBI agents aren’t qualified for honorable discharge. But John received the closest version of it that they could give him. He was an incredible mentor who Oliver would always be grateful for, but Oliver had also learned from his mistakes, as well.

He’d learned to never take a case home with him. Although, bringing Sara home was probably worse in a number of different ways. He’d also learned to never let his personal emotions get wrapped up in a case.

Luckily, that had yet to become an issue.

Looking down at his watch, Oliver becomes more and more inpatient. He wants to get back upstairs to Felicity. To see if she and Curtis have gotten any closer. If his math is right, then Felicity only has about eight hours before...unimaginable horrors. Haunting pain that had destroyed the agent assigned to the case.

He also knows that bringing John into the fold is a risk. But no one knows the killer better than him. No one else has dedicated their career, and their life, to finding the man responsible for thirteen women dying in the Holland Forest.

That had been nine years ago. Nine years without a body. Nine years without any trace of the killer’s MO...until Felicity Smoak’s voice crackled through their communications.

Finally, the front door swings open, and Oliver jogs over to the officers that try to stop Diggle from blowing past them. “He’s back?” John demands as soon as he sees Oliver, his eyes wild.

Holding up his hands, Oliver answers, “we think so...”

“The woman is alive?” 

He nods, realizing that he isn’t sure how much Sara had shared. Not that there’s much  _to_ share. 

But there’s no way this guy is barreling upstairs and scaring the shit out of Felicity Smoak with his intense obsession. “She doesn’t know what she’s in the middle of,” Oliver explains, “I haven’t told her anything about the cold cases. We’re hoping to find her before he comes back.” Oliver swallows, “before she finds out for herself what happens next.”

Realization colors John’s face. And he lets out a deep breath, knowing that making an already terrified girl panic when she’s trapped in a box won’t help anyone. Diggle scrapes a hand over his face, “how long has she been down there?”

“We’re guessing about three hours.”

“So she has eight more,” he knows immediately. “Do you have a team out there looking?”

“Yes,” Oliver nods sharply. “They’re searching around every site where the other bodies were found. They’ve been instructed to look for loose dirt, footprints, and any kind of ventilation mechanism. We’re tracking down her family, working on getting something of hers for the dogs to sniff out.”

Diggle nods, “good. Let’s catch this son of a bitch.”

It’s the resolve in his eyes that makes Oliver certain that calling him in was the right move. Not only did no one know the case better, but no one would work harder to save this woman’s life than John Diggle.

"I’m glad to have your help on this,” Oliver offered his hand. “John,”

“My friends call me Dig,” he replied lowly, his eyes narrowing at Oliver. “You can call me nothing.”


	27. "I've already seen you shirtless. Multiple times. Shirtless all the time"

Arrow Out of Context [Part 3](http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/post/178064640079/arrow-out-of-context-sentence-prompts-part-three) has begun!

Head over to Tumblr. [Send ](http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/ask)me a number!

_“I’ve already seen you shirtless. Multiple times. Shirtless all the time.”_

* * *

 

When your brother happened to play major league baseball, you automatically won cool mom points by default.

Felicity glanced down at her son, dressed in an over-sized Blue Jays jersey with a ball cap that he had to tilt his head up to see out from under, a hot dog in one hand and a baseball in the other. Adjusting her purse, she kept a grip on his shirt, finding their way through the empty stadium to their seats at the edge of the field.

It wasn’t every day that Jason was able to score them seats right behind home plate, but she and her brother had jumped through plenty of hoops to make sure that Lincoln’s first game was special.

His feet shuffled beside her into the row, and she took his hot dog so he could climb up onto the seat. “Right here, baby,” Felicity told him, pointing out his numbered chair. Lincoln nodded, getting to work on making himself comfortable. She bit her lip as she watched him because he was just so damn  _cute_.

She took the ball out of his tiny fist and set it in his cup holder. Then she rested his hot dog in his lap and reminded him to be careful not to drop it. Felicity squatted in front of him, lifting the hat up until she could see his eyes. She grinned at him as he glanced around the giant stadium, taking it all in. “Hi,”

Lincoln’s eyes drifted back to her, “hi, momma,” he offered with a sweet smile.

“Ah,” Felicity’s heart melted for him just as it always did, and she leaned forward to kiss his little chubby cheek a few times. “You’re so stinking cute.”

Her son gasped suddenly, and Felicity turned to see the team coming out to warm up. Jason noticed them immediately, jogging over as Lincoln wiggled in his chair. He waved excitedly to the team as they jogged by home plate, and a few of them waved back, chuckling at him, offering him hello’s.

“Look buddy,” Felicity nudged him as her brother stopped at the wall in front of them. “Uncle Jason came to say hi to you.”

Giving his uncle a wave, Lincoln strained to look around them, his eyes scanning the field with interest. Jason laughed as the toddler blew him off, “what? Am I not cool enough for you anymore?”

Felicity pushed her son’s hair back, out of his face, then she sighed and stood, taking a few steps over to the wall so she could talk to her brother. “He’s grown out of his Uncle Jason phase. You’ve been replaced by Queen.”

Jason frowned, glancing over at his nephew, “hey kid,” his eyes narrowed at the numbers on Lincoln’s chest, “that doesn’t look like my jersey.”

“S’not,” Lincoln wiggled, pulling at his shirt but keeping his eyes on the players. “I wanted Ol’ver Queen’s shirt.”

Pressing her lips together, Felicity met Jason’s eyes, mock betrayal written all over his face. “You actually bought him Queen’s jersey?” he accused, reaching over the wall to shove her shoulder.

“It’s what he wanted!” Felicity defended herself, “this whole thing is to make him happy, it’s not my fault you’ve been replaced.”

“Oh please,” Jason scoffed, “I’ve seen the way you stare at Queen whenever you come to watch practice. He’s not even that great. Clearly Lincoln only notices him because mommy does.”

“Hey!” Felicity reached over to smack his arm, but he danced away, laughing as he teased her some more about having a crush on his teammate. “First of all, he’s your best player and you know it. And second of all, the man insists on practicing shirtless. Of course I’m going to notice.”

Jason rolled his eyes, “the guys take their shirts off all the time.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t all look like  _that_. Besides,” Felicity shrugged, “Lincoln is obsessed with him because he’s been hitting home runs every game. So you start doing that, and I’m sure your nephew will love you again.” She flashed him a sarcastic smile.

Jason rolled his eyes, leaning around her to speak to Lincoln, but then his face dropped. Felicity swung around, her heart immediately sinking at whatever caused the look on her brother’s face.

Instead of finding her son covered in a ketchup mess or squirming to get down like she’d expected…he was gone.

Felicity’s heart sunk even lower, making her feel instantly nauseous; a mother’s worst nightmare coming true.

“Lincoln?” Jason called his name first, easily hopping over the wall and scanning the seats. Felicity followed after her brother, both of them running up the steps and looking through the empty rows, hoping they’d find him playing on the ground somewhere in the stands.

“Lincoln!” Felicity began to panic as she realized that fans would start showing up soon, making the giant stadium crowded and even more intimidating to a four year old. “Where could he have gone?” Her voice cracked as her eyes searched wildly.

Jason shook his head, responding to her anxiety with calmness, just as he’d been doing ever since they were kids. “It’s okay, Felicity. He’s around here somewhere.”

As she glanced up, she noticed a little blue blob barreling across the outfield, “oh!” she cried, her voice catching, flooded with relief at the sight of him. Jason’s eyes followed just as Lincoln reached Oliver Queen, who was warming up, throwing a ball back and forth with a teammate. “Oh, frack,” Felicity mumbled, cringing as her son literally flung himself onto the stranger’s leg.

Jason began to laugh, but Felicity was already moving, keeping her eyes on Lincoln as she jogged down the steps. She watched Lincoln hug Oliver’s leg, and the poor guy stiffened, looking at his teammate in confusion and then back down at the toddler.

Oliver bent down, carefully starting to pull Lincoln off of him. And as soon as Oliver managed to get Lincoln’s little hands unlatched from his pant leg, Lincoln reached for his neck, wrapping both arms around the stranger. “Oh, Lincoln,” Felicity grumbled, jogging to the wall behind home plate. She glanced around for a door that would let her onto the field. Clearly Lincoln must have found one.

Luckily, Oliver seemed amused by the clingy child. She swore she could her him laughing as Lincoln’s forceful hug knocked Oliver’s hat off his head. His hand rubbed her son’s back, keeping them both steady. Felicity stopped when Oliver hugged Lincoln back, mumbling to her son with a friendly smile on his face.

Of course he was good with kids. And gorgeous.  _Of course._

Standing, Oliver scooped Lincoln up with him. His eyes began to search the stands as Lincoln rested his head on his shoulder like it was a natural thing to do.

Before she could decide whether or not to try scrambling over the wall, risking her own life and limb with her clumsiness, Jason was hopping it easily. He jogged across the field towards Oliver.

Felicity pressed her fingers against her lips, just wanting to hold her son after the panic attack she’d nearly had. And she needed to have a very serious conversation with her four year old about  _not_ running off to talk to strangers.

She watched as Jason pointed her out to Oliver, reaching for his nephew. But Oliver held on to Lincoln a little tighter, meeting Felicity’s eyes across the field. “I got it,” he seemed to tell Jason.

And then he was walking over to her, Lincoln in his arms. Her heart sped up, hammering in her chest. Oliver smiled easily at her when he reached home plate. “I think this might belong to you.”

She breathed out a laugh, “yep,” Felicity shook her head, “that’s definitely mine. I’m so sorry,”

Oliver just shrugged, his hand still smoothed against Lincoln’s back, almost the same size. “He’s very cute.”

Snorting, Felicity nodded in agreement, “tell me about it. Especially when you’re saying ‘no’ but he wants you to be saying ‘yes.’”

Chuckling, Oliver stepped closer to her, rocking the toddler slightly. “Lincoln, right?” he asked, and she nodded. “He grabbed right on to my leg and said ‘my name’s Lincoln and I love you,’” Oliver grinned at her, “how could that not melt my heart a little?”

She laughed too, biting her lip. Oliver seemed a little hesitant to let him go, shaking his head as he gently attempted to remove the clinger. Felicity closed her eyes in embarrassment when Lincoln tightened his grip, “I want to stay with you!”

“Lincoln,” she warned, her voice taking on that special mom tone.

Before she had a chance to make any threats, Oliver rubbed his back again, mumbling something into his ear. And Lincoln picked his head up from Oliver’s shoulder, turning to look at her. “Can we really see him Sunday, momma?”

“What?” Felicity asked, glancing from Oliver to Lincoln, trying to think if Jason mentioned practice on Sunday. But she didn’t think they had one, and even if they did, she hadn’t planned on going.

Her eyes widened a bit when Oliver smiled at her, leaning in to whisper to Lincoln again. Then her son rocked back and forth excitedly, keeping a grip on Oliver while he whipped around to look at her again, “can we go mini-golfing with him, momma!?” Her son yelled as if she had any idea what he was talking about. “Please, please, please, please,” Lincoln groaned, making Oliver chuckle, charmed by the adorable lisp that always made her smile, too.

She met Oliver’s eyes, cocking her head to the side, “are you manipulating my child into hanging out with you?”

Oliver smirked, “not exactly,” he told her before mumbling something quietly to Lincoln.

Her son glanced at her while Oliver spoke, his little eyebrows shooting up as he pulled his lips to the side. Then he leaned towards her, pulling her in to share the secret as if Oliver couldn’t hear. “Momma,” he whispered loudly, “Ol’ver Queen thinks you’re very, very, very, very, very, very pretty and he wants to see you on Sunday.”

“Oh,” her eyes widened; a little slow, but it finally clicked. It’d been years since anyone asked her out, let alone asked her son along, too. Toddlers were usually intimidating. Or at least a turn off.

“I think you forgot a few very’s,” Oliver informed Lincoln, who laughed in that adorable, belly giggling kind of way.

“Like a date?” Felicity blurted.

Oliver bit his lip, whispering to Lincoln again. Her son nodded once in acknowledgement before tapping Felicity on the cheek, “Yes, momma.”

“We don’t really know each other,” she breathed,

Raising an eyebrow, Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but her four year old answered for him. “That’s why people  _date_ , momma.”

Oliver laughed, shaking his head at the tiny kid who she could tell was already winning him over. For whatever it was worth. “What he said.”

Felicity huffed, “oh, well, I guess my son already loves you, so that’s not an issue. And I mean… I’ve already seen you shirtless. Multiple times. Shirtless all the time.” Felicity swallowed, “so uh, no problem there,” Oliver stared at her as she babbled, and she wondered why he wasn’t stopping her. She squeezed her eyes shut, “not that I’d see you shirtless on our first date.”  Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes. “I’ll just give you an opportunity here to turn back time and forget this ever happened. Get out while you still can and all that.”

He raised his eyebrows, watching her. “Nope,” Oliver adjusted Lincoln on his hip, keeping his eyes on Felicity. “Offer still stands.”

“Yes,” she nodded quickly.

Oliver smiled at her, holding his hand up for a high five from her son. “You make a good wing man,” he said. Lincoln looked like he had no idea what that meant but he smiled anyway, giving him the high five. “All right, Lincoln,” Oliver sighed, knowing that Felicity could hear him. “You watch the game with your mom, and tell her I’ll be back after to get her phone number.”

She felt her cheeks flush as Oliver looked back at her.

Then he moved to pass Lincoln over the wall, placing the boy in her arms without complaint this time.

Oliver winked at her before he jogged off, returning to his place in the outfield and picking up his glove. He threw her a couple more looks as she sunk into her chair with a sigh, hugging Lincoln tight and settling him onto her lap.

“Momma,”

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Ol’ver Queen wants your numbers after the baseball game.”

“I know,” she breathed, pressing her lips to the side of his forehead as they both watched Oliver.


	28. "Oliver has an entire prison on Lian Yu"

_“Actually Oliver has an entire prison on Lian Yu. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.”_

_Let's just pretend the prison survived the explosion for fic's sake... Set in season 7! P.S. please blame Brandon Routh for this one ;)_

* * *

 

Oliver is having a hard time staying awake, staring at the muted television. The house is quiet, giving him that familiar sense of security, tempting him to close his eyes. William is already in bed, he’d fallen asleep hours ago. But Felicity still isn’t home yet.

It isn’t often that she takes a night off, and it’s always humbling for him when she does. If what she felt while he was in the field is even a fraction of how it feels whenever she’s gone...then he knows he is getting a taste of his own medicine.

This time, the Legends had come for her.

Just after dinner, while he’d been doing the dishes and Felicity had been helping William with his homework, Sara and Ray had shown up on their doorstep, asking for help. Oliver was in the middle of weighing his options when Sara had smirked knowingly, “not from you, Ollie,” she’d quipped.

Apparently they were having a technical issue with the ship, and thought that Felicity was their best bet of getting it fixed so they could be on their way. He just wasn’t sure why it’s taking almost four hours to handle.

Oliver sighs as he glances at the clock again.

He wants to call her. But he knows that after putting her through hell the last few months, he doesn’t have a right to question her. He’s also afraid that she’ll take it as him pushing her, nagging her for being gone too long. Which would be  _really_ hypocritical coming from him.

Maybe he could wake William up and have  _him_ text Felicity. That’d be innocent enough, right? Felicity would at least respond to a text from her step-son, assure him that she was okay. That’s all he needs.

Although, William is probably Sara Lance’s number one fan. The kid is sleeping soundly tonight, believing that Felicity is in the best possible hands, Sara’s, to keep her safe. Oliver had to try very hard not to be offended by that one.

When he finally hears the sound of a car coming up the drive, Oliver gets to his feet. Just as he makes it to the door and pulls the curtain aside, he sees Felicity, Sara, and Ray getting out of the car. And then he steps out onto the porch, crossing his arms to fight off the cold.

Observing them, it’s clear that Sara played babysitter. Ray gets distracted trying to close the passenger door, not realizing that his seat belt is caught. Oliver lets his eyes wander to Felicity, who steadies herself on Sara’s shoulder as she begins to take off her shoes.

Sara’s eyes meet his, and his eyebrows shoot up.  _They’re drunk?_

With her heels in hand, Felicity huffs, patting Sara on the arm and turning to the house. She notices him on the steps and grins. “Hi, handsome.”

Oliver lifts his jaw, his heart clenching a bit at the easy, loving expression on her face. To say it’d been tough since he came home would be an understatement. But apparently drunk Felicity isn’t so worried about keeping her guard up.

Waving, Oliver looks back at his wife, frowning as she tries to navigate the front steps. Snapping out of his thoughts, he moves quickly, wrapping his arm around her waist and more carrying her up the steps than helping her walk them.

She sighs happily, resting her head on his shoulder. Oliver waits until they’re on the porch, even ground, before he lets her go. She’s still teetering, so he takes her shoes from her hand and keeps her steady. “Why didn’t you call me?” He asks quietly, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. Their friends needing help was one thing. Even getting caught up in the tech of a futuristic ship and forgetting to check in with him was more understandable than this.

 _This_ was the last thing he expected.

“I texted you,” Felicity frowns, squeezing his hand.

Oliver pinches his lips together, not wanting to start an argument but... “no, you didn’t.”

Her pout deepens as she reaches into the purse slung over her shoulder, fishing out her phone. The screen lights up her face as she pushes the buttons, then she holds it out to him. “I did. See?”

Oliver cocks his head to the side, “first of all, you didn’t hit send, so I never got that.”

“Oh.”

“And second of all, that text just said ‘we should get a bunny.’”

“We should!” Felicity bounces, stepping closer to him. “I think you could use a little friend to keep you company. Now that it’s just you.”

Oliver’s eyes flicker to Sara and Ray, watching as Sara attempts to help Ray to the house. “It’s not just me,” he mutters to his wife. “I have you.”

“Yeah, but I think you should still have a bunny. I know you don’t really like people.”

He just sighs, kissing her head quickly as he moves to help Sara, “I like you, though. Stay here, please.” He guides her into one of the chairs by the door, then jogs back down the driveway, taking the other side of Ray and hauling him in.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He grumbles to Sara.

“Wasn’t me. These two broke into the liquor cabinet all on their own. I expect this crap from Nate, but Ray’s usually the responsible one.”

Oliver clenches his jaw, not willing to admit the stab of jealousy he feels, knowing Felicity had spent the last couple hours getting drunk with her ex.

They get Ray up the steps and Oliver pushes the door open, glancing at Felicity for a moment. “One second, okay? We’re just going to get Ray on the couch.” She bites her lip and nods. Oliver sighs, glaring at Sara as they maneuver Ray inside. “Why’d you bring him here?”

“Well, it gets a little worse,” Sara mutters back, launching Ray onto the couch with a huff. 

Oliver raises an eyebrow, holding up a finger to her before hurrying back out to the porch. “Okay, your turn,” he says to Felicity, “come here, baby.”

Felicity smiles, lifting her arms to him. And Oliver chuckles without complaint, bending down and lifting her into his arms. Their touches have been a little scarce lately, still trying to find their rhythm again after so long apart. But his wife snuggles right into him, “you have a nice ass,” she tells him seriously.

“So do you,” he answers instantly, glancing down at her and smirking. He’s not as familiar with sweet, drunk Felicity as he used to be. And he can’t deny that he likes this side of her.

“I tried the salmon ladder once when no one was around,” she whispers as he kicks the door shut behind them. “I fell on my ass. It hurt.”

Oliver chuckles, wondering why she’d never told him that before. “That night I tried to teach you makes a lot more sense now,” he teased, “you seemed pretty nervous to get up there.”

Felicity raises her eyebrows, playing with the collar of his t-shirt. “I was. But it was the only plan I could think of to get you to touch me.”

His eyes dart down to her as he stops in the hallway. “You don’t ever need a plan, Felicity. I always want you.” He tells her quietly, knowing their friends are in the next room. Felicity’s eyes flutter shut as she sighs, her hand clutching onto his shirt tighter.

“Like now?”

He swallows, waiting for her to open her eyes again before he nods his head in response. His eyes flicker down to her lips, he can smell the alcohol on her and he can’t help but wonder how she’d taste. “Always, Felicity.”

She bites her lip, either finding truth in his words or in his eyes, because he knows the desire he has for her is palpable in both.

“Ollie!” Sara calls from the living room, making Felicity flinch. He hugs her a little tighter, sighing as he carries her into the room. 

Sara’s sitting beside Ray on the couch, an irritated frown on her face and one hand covering his mouth. Oliver stops for a moment, adjusting Felicity. “What the hell–”

“They took a truth serum,” Sara snaps. “Voluntarily. For two geniuses, they’re quite stupid when they drink.” she throws another glare at Ray. “This one can’t stop admitting the crush he had on me when we first met.” Ray begins to speak, his words muffled behind Sara’s hand. She tightens her grip, making him yelp and then stop. “Knock it off before I knock you out,” she seethes.

Pausing to let it sink in, Oliver glances down at his wife. “Is that true?”

Felicity squirms a bit, but then her pupils dilate. “Yes,” she admits.

Oliver closes his eyes, “why on earth would you do that?”

“I’ve been a little confused lately,” Felicity answers softly, and he opens his eyes to look at her again. “I thought it might help me figure out how I really feel.”

“Feel about what?” He asks without thinking, forgetting for a moment that she was under the influence of complete honesty.

“You,” Felicity breathes. “Our marriage.” Oliver nods, staring at her but unsure what to say. He’s too afraid to ask her something he might not want the answer to. And he doesn’t want her to say anything she might not be ready to admit. 

“Okay,” Sara huffs. Oliver notices the flush on Felicity’s face, her eyes blown wide and her skin cold. All symptoms of the serum that he wasn’t paying attention to before. “I know that crap can be tricky. You have more experience with it than I do, so I wanted you to take a look at them.”

Oliver nods, walking across the room so he can put Felicity down, unable to meet her eyes. “Why did Ray take it?” He mutters to Sara, hoping the other two can keep their mouths shut until it’s out of their systems. It seems like he and Sara are on the same page in believing that would be best.

“From what I gather, Felicity didn’t want to take it alone. I really don’t have an explanation beyond...drunk idiots.”

Setting his wife down in the chair, Oliver turns to deal with Ray first. He isn’t quite sure how to handle Felicity yet, feeling like there are landmines between them and he needs a moment to decide how to navigate it without blowing everything up. But Felicity catches his hand as he starts to move away. “I love you, Oliver,” she tells him, her voice low.

He glances down at her, then at her hand in his. “I love you, too,” he finally answers, not looking up.

“No,” Felicity stares up at him, “I mean, I love you. I want to be with you. Right here.” She bites her lip, her thumb caressing the back of his hand.

Oliver crouches down so he’s eye-level with her. Looking into her eyes, he knows it’s the truth. Not just because of the serum, not just because of tonight. He’s always been able to feel how much she loves him, even at times when she couldn’t say it. “I understand that you’re afraid, Felicity,” he soothes, trying to keep his voice low to give a semblance of privacy. “I know that you’re afraid to lose me, but I’m not going–”

“I  _did_ ,” she interrupts, scooting across the chair to get closer. Felicity’s free hand grazes his cheek, watching him in that way that has comforted him for years. “I did lose you. And I don’t ever want to do it again,” Felicity huffs. “I don’t know if I was confused about how I feel, Oliver. Maybe I was just afraid to  _say_ it. I’m terrified of losing you. I always have been. But those months we spent apart, they took a toll. It hasn’t been as easy to get back to being  _us_ as I thought it would.”

“You won’t lose me,” he promises. If there’s anything he’s certain of, it’s that he’s never going to let anyone or anything stand between him and his family ever again. He’ll always choose them. No matter the circumstance, no matter the outcome, no matter the decision. 

“I want to be your wife and William’s step-mom and...this is the life I want. I want it, Oliver. I want it very, very bad.”

He smiles, “I’m glad, Felicity. Because I love you very, very much. And I don’t ever plan on letting you go again.”

When Felicity whimpers, her eyes dropping down to his lips, Oliver forgets all about their company behind them. He lifts himself up, leaning into his wife and kissing her.

“Felicity,” Ray’s voice cuts in, making Oliver stiffen. “I need you to know that if it doesn’t work out with Oliver, I’m still here if you ever want to try again.”

“What?” Oliver, Felicity, and Sara wail in unison. While Oliver and Felicity stare at him in shock, Sara groans. “Oh, Ray, you didn’t.”

“I was just saying!” He flinches, “and I fully realize that that was a thought I would have kept in my head if it weren’t for this truth juice stuff.”

“Ollie,” Sara shakes her head, “can you just tell me that they’re both fine so that I can take Ray back to the ship...and then kick his ass out in the Mesozoic Era?”

Ray’s face drops, “not the dinosaurs again.” His eyes dart to Oliver, who is stiff with tension, his eyes furious and focused on Ray. “Oh no,” he groans, “please don’t shoot me with arrows, or get me sent to Slabside.”

Like the sweet, non-confrontational woman that she is, Felicity forces a tense laugh, squirming to her feet. She stands beside her husband, running her hands over his arm, holding it between hers and kissing his shoulder. “You wouldn’t go to maximum security,” Felicity tries to joke. “Actually, Oliver has an entire prison on Lian Yu.” Then her eyes go wide, “maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.” She looks up at him, “I probably shouldn’t have told them that. Sorry, honey.” Felicity wrinkles her nose.

Oliver releases a deep breath, letting his adorable wife calm him down. “It’s fine, Felicity.” He smiles at her. Then he turns and levels Ray with a hard glare, “Ray should know where he’ll end up if he ever tries to make a move on you again.”

“Oh,” Felicity yelps, biting her lips together. Oliver glances at her quickly, but forces his eyes back to Ray, enjoying the way the man is squirming a little bit. He deserves it. Truth serum or not...none of them could  _un-hear_ him tell Felicity he’d be waiting in the wings if her marriage fails. He probably deserves a lot more than a threat.

Felicity’s fingers tighten on his arm, and he finally looks down at her. Her eyes are wide, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, and she’s looking at him like she’s really trying not to say what she wants to say. He actually think her eyes are a little watery. “What is it?” He asks, honing in on her. “What’s wrong?”

His shoulders stiffen for a moment, wondering if he’d pissed her off by threatening Ray.

She groans, yanking on his collar to pull him down. Felicity moves to whisper in his ear, her lips resting just outside, making him shiver as her breath runs over him. “It really turns me on when you’re jealous,” she sighs like the words are a breath of relief.

He pulls back quickly, feeling something stirring that isn’t meant for a moment like this...but his eyes meet Felicity’s and he has to stop himself from kissing her. She bites her lip, staring at him as if she’s completely forgotten that they’re not alone.

“Oh-kay,” Sara clears her throat, “they’re fine, right? We can go?”

Oliver sighs, forcing his eyes away from his wife. “Just make sure he drinks plenty of water, it’ll flush it out faster.”

Nodding, Sara stands from the couch, dragging Ray along with her. “Bye, Felicity,” Ray grins like a fool, stepping towards her like he’s going in for a hug. Oliver pins him with a murderous glare that makes him hesitate, but it’s Sara who smacks him upside the head. “Yeah, no, not this time, pal. Let’s go.”

She shoves him towards the door, then turns to wave. “Thanks for your help, Felicity. Love you both, bye!”

“You’re welcome,” Felicity smiles, waving back as they head for the door. “See you guys soon.”

“Soon,” Sara smirks, offering a wink that’s just so  _Sara_ , it makes him relax a little.

Felicity turns to him as soon as the door shuts behind them. She rises onto her toes as she wraps her arms around his neck. Leaning in, she kisses a trail up his throat, pausing at his jaw. “Oliver,” she mutters, her voice low and sexy. “You know I’d never leave you for Ray, right?”

“Mmm,” he hums, tilting his chin down to kiss her. “I believe you.”

“Good,” she purrs back. “Ask me what I want to do right now.”

Closing his eyes, Oliver smiles and rests his forehead against Felicity’s. “I don’t think I need to ask,” he mumbles before scooping her up again. Oliver kisses her slowly, moving with grace as he carries her down the hall and up the stairs.


	29. "Well if it's you asking, I'll do it"

Anonymous said: Number 14 pleaseeee

 

"Well, if it's you asking, I'll do it."

Prequel to [Chapter One of If I Tremble](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409122/chapters/35762643)

* * *

 

Damn Oliver Queen for ruining rain.

Rain should be peaceful. Relaxing. It was supposed to put you to sleep, not drive you into a panic attack while you sat in your car.

Felicity saw Oliver walk into Big Belly Burger ten minutes ago. And she had yet to build up the courage to follow. His vague form sat at the window, foggy through the rain on the glass between them. After a few minutes of waiting, he’d ordered two cups of coffee. And he sat sipping at one of them while the other got cold. Felicity frowns, wondering if he bought it for her. 

She’d just been given a job at Queen Consolidated, after nearly three weeks of interviews and meetings to determine if she was the right fit to be the supervisor of their IT department. 

Felicity was told, offhandedly by one of her future coworkers, that Oliver Queen was out living in California somewhere. 

_“I hear he’s partying his way through Los Angeles...and any model or actress he can get his hands on.”  
_

Felicity had smiled politely, as if his name and the mental image the woman created were foreign to her.

Getting a call from him four hours after she accepted the position had been the first surprise. But then he’d asked her to meet him at Big Belly Burger so they could talk.

“Okay, you’re not a kid anymore,” she tells herself as she stares through her windshield. “You’re a grown ass adult and you can have a grown ass adult conversation.” There are only about a million counterarguments that bombard her head, most of them incoherent excuses.

But it’s time. Time to put old wounds to bed. Move on.

She shoves the door open, stepping into the rain and moving with purpose. Felicity intends to keep her momentum until she’s in the restaurant, facing Oliver Queen and asking him, confidently and sternly, what the hell he wants. He’d taken her off guard by calling her out of the blue, asking if they could meet up when she thought he wasn’t even in the state. It caught her by surprise. That’s all. Her shock was the only reason she’d agreed to this.

If she’d been prepared, the answer would have been  _no_.

Her eyes flicker to the window as she crosses the street, then she steps up onto the sidewalk. Oliver is watching her through the window, and he smiles shyly when she notices; an innocent, nervous expression. He lifts his hand to wave. 

Felicity stares at him for a moment, never knowing Oliver to be shy or innocent. And it’d be a cold day in hell if she ever thought she’d see him  _nervous_. 

Again, he threw a wrench in her train of thought, making all of her anger fade as she enters the restaurant. He looks different. More mature. More at peace than she remembered.

He looks  _good_.

* * *

 

“Hi,” Oliver offers, smoothing his hands over his knees, fidgeting.

She hesitates for a moment, staring. He’s much more muscular than he’d been in high school, filling out his height and build nicely. And he’d lost the ridiculous floppy haircut that all the boys used to call ‘hockey hair.’ She can’t remember him ever having hair on his face, but he’s sporting an attractive five o’clock shadow now, making his jaw look even more rugged and handsome than she remembered.

“Hi.”

He looks around the room, smiling awkwardly, “I’ve never been here before. The burgers look good, though.”

“They taste even better.” Felicity answers, releasing her breath and trying to relax.

Oliver gestures to the stool beside him, “would you like to sit? Maybe I can try one.”

Inhaling, Felicity takes her coat off and sits down. “Not to be rude, but...I feel like we need to just get to the point here. What is this about, Oliver?” He purses his lips, silently sliding the second cup of coffee he’d ordered across the table until it sits in front of her. She glances down at it, curious because it has  _just_ the right color. Plain coffee with a splash of skim milk. The only way she drinks it. “You ordered this?” Felicity asks, frowning.

“You asked for the same thing every day at the school coffee bar, and I ended up in line behind you most of the time. I’d be pretty oblivious if it didn’t stick at some point,” he mumbles, glancing away from her as he drinks his own coffee. Felicity looks from the mug to him, wondering if that was the truth or if there was something else. Surely, he didn’t ask her there just so he could prove he remembers her coffee order from eight years ago.

“What did you want to talk about, Oliver?”

He sighs, resting his elbows on the table and pressing both palms against his cup. “You’re working for my family’s company now.”

She nods once, her jaw tightening. “This position is better than anything else I applied for. It’s better pay than anything I was even  _hoping_ to get.”

Oliver shakes his head, “I’m not questioning you. You deserve a job like this. We're lucky to grab you from Palmer Tech before anyone else. I just wanted you to know that I’ll be getting more involved with the company. I want to turn QC’s legacy around. Get the business involved with charities and good publicity...things that don’t include bulldozing people’s homes.”

Felicity stares at him. “You have a business degree?” She has to ask. Not that it would matter considering who his father is. Oliver could be the CEO of his family’s company if he wanted, and he wouldn’t have to take a single class. But she wants to challenge him.

Oliver nods, “I do.”

She can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. If high-school-Felicity had been asked where high-school-Oliver would be six years in the future, she probably would have offered a snappy retort about daily STD checks at the clinic. 

“So, we’ll both be working at Queen Consolidated,” Felicity shrugs. Part of her had been worried that he’d invited her just so he could fire her, before she could even start. Felicity wasn’t even sure if he had the power, but the Oliver she remembers would have enjoyed testing it anyway. “I think we’ve matured enough that we can handle it.” Her voice is low, somewhat uncertain...remembering all the times he’d been a total asshole to other kids in their class, and all the times she’d stormed up to him at his locker to tell him off.

Part of her misses the rebellious confidence and attitude she’d carried as a teenager. But those two people would not be able to work in the same building, let alone the same city. So it’s probably for the best if she tries  _not_ to jump down his throat every day like she did when they were young.

She knows for a fact that she is a very different person, inside and out. It couldn’t hurt to give Oliver the benefit of the doubt and assume that he’s changed, too.

“Your hair is different,” Oliver says quietly, leaning back to look at her blonde ponytail. “I like it.”

“Thank you,” she says, feeling a blush on her cheeks, both from the compliment and from the reminder of the questionable hair and wardrobe choices she made during her angst-ridden goth phase at sixteen.

“I almost didn’t recognize you when I saw you coming in.” Oliver raises his hand to touch the frame of her glasses, “these gave you away, though” he says with a grin. “Are they the same ones?”

Felicity smiles back, feeling like the amusement on his face is more genuine and kind than he’d ever been in high school. “Close enough,” she replies, rolling her eyes. He chuckles, dropping his hand into his lap and squeezing his fingers. 

“I’m sorry if calling you seemed weird or intimidating. I just thought we should talk...and it felt like it needed to be a face to face conversation so we could-”

“Clear the air?” she asks, giving him a supportive smile. He nods appreciatively, his eyes softening with understanding. 

And he does have a point.  _Seeing_ how much he’s changed is definitely having an effect on how she’s responding to him. “You know,” she inhales, “I was half expecting you to try to fire me.” Oliver raises his eyebrows, letting out a surprised huff. She smirks, “the other half was expecting Tommy Merlyn to be hiding under the table with a can of silly string ready to attack.”

He shakes his head, letting out a breathy laugh. “Was there a part of you that thought maybe I’m just a reformed asshole...wanting to apologize for how horrible I was when we were teenagers?”

“No,” she scrunches up her nose, teasing him. 

Oliver’s eyes skim over her face, a soft but unreadable expression in his eyes as he takes her in. “You’re beautiful, Felicity,” he mumbles. Felicity stares at him, feeling like he just keeps surprising her. “You’ve always been beautiful.”

Felicity bites her lip as he watches her, smiling in appreciation and hoping he understands. She isn’t sure she believes that he’s  _always_ noticed her...but the compliment helps. It’s  _kind_.

“So,” she clears her throat, “how did post high school life treat you, Oliver Queen?” Felicity leans a little closer, “aside from the multi-million dollar company, of course.”

“Well,” he tenses, and she narrows her eyes at the return of the nerves taking over his face and body language. “That’s actually part of what I wanted to talk to you about. In high school...I really didn’t like my life all that much.” 

If his tone wasn’t so sincere and weighty, she might have rolled her eyes about rich kids complaining. High-school-Felicity probably  _would_ have rolled her eyes. And tossed a few insults in his direction. But the older, more mature Felicity stops to listen.

“The way that I treated you was inexcusable,” Oliver continues, not meeting her eyes. “But I liked you. A lot. And I guess I didn’t know what to do with those feelings. I didn’t know how to express it or how to talk to you about it.”

“Are-” she snaps her mouth shut, trying to digest. “Are you saying you had a crush on me?”

He nods once, staring down at the empty mug between his hands. “A pretty big one. But I kind of hated myself,” he admits lowly, his eyes flickering up to her, “so I didn’t think I was good enough for someone like you. You were so smart, and you didn’t care what people thought. You spoke your mind, you always kept me on my toes, and you had no problem putting me in my place. I liked being around you, but I...” His eyebrows push together as he stares down at his hands, his voice getting smaller. “I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t exactly want to be anywhere, really.”

She stares at him, seeing the raw emotion rippling behind his eyes. He pushes it back, but god, she’d never known...never realized that Oliver Queen could think deeper than the Cheerleader of the Week, as she’d liked to call his conquests. Felicity puts her hand over his, enjoying the warmth that seeps from his hand and right into her heart. Oliver turns his fingers to knot them with hers. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“After graduation...I’d be lying if I said that college helped me turn things around. It only made everything worse, actually. I spent my whole freshman year trying to find something,  _anything_ , to make me care. The irony was that I thought the best solutions were fifths of vodka and every drug I could get my hands on.”

She squeezes his fingers, surprised by his honesty, the absence of the facade she always felt he hid behind. The man in front of her now is somewhat of an open book. More self-aware, too. And even though it surprises her, she just as easily appreciates it. Likes it. “I’m sorry...”

“I flunked out of school...my parents sent me to a new one. And I flunked out of that one, too. They did everything they could to make it all go away for me, to get me into the next Ivy League on their list. But I couldn’t stop my... _habits_."

"Oliver, I had no idea..." She shakes her head, feeling foolish for her naive mind, never believing that someone like him could struggle.

"After two years, I realized that I wasn't ever going to. Not on my own. I decided to check myself into rehab, and I spent a few years getting clean. The facility I stayed at helped get my education back on track. It took a little longer, but eventually I settled on Business, got my degree...” he sighs, “and came home. 

So...I didn’t just want to talk about us working together. Part of rehab is making amends, and the first person I thought of was you.”

“Me?” She asks, pointing to herself and raising her eyebrows.

“You,” Oliver breathes, his eyes meeting hers again. “I’m sorry for how I treated you back then, Felicity.”

The unfiltered depth of his eyes is intimidating. He doesn’t hold any of his pain back. He doesn’t bury it behind a mask like he did in high school. “I’m surprised you’d want to apologize to me instead of all those girls you slept with in high school,” she tries to joke, hiding in her own way, from the seriousness of the conversation. She’s much more afraid of honest emotion than she’d been as a teenager. When Oliver winces, she squeezes his hand. “I’m sorry. I just-you were never really that bad to me. Most of the time I was yelling at you for picking on Barry Allen.”

Oliver smiles, raising an eyebrow at her. “Allen... I always hated that kid.”

Felicity rolls her eyes, “yes, judging by my daily chats with the custodian, asking him to unlock the supply closet you’d locked Barry in, I didn’t think you liked him all that much.”

“Well...” Oliver whispers, “I could tell you liked him. And I was probably a little jealous.”

Her eyes widen, and she feels her cheeks getting pink. Oliver sighs, looking down at her hand in his. She realizes that he’d been holding it for way too long, but he just takes a sip of his coffee, his thumb running along the back of her hand like he had no plans of letting it go. “I should probably give Allen a call,” Oliver says quietly, glancing up at her with the cutest, biggest puppy dog eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to have his number...would you?”

She nods, “I do, actually. I’m sure he would appreciate that.”

“And you...you keep in touch with him fairly often?”

Felicity doesn’t pick up on his tone at first, the way his eyes watch her. “Yeah, yeah, we talk almost every day.” His face drops a bit, and Felicity bites her lip, realizing the intention of his questioning. “His wife is amazing. One of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

Oliver’s eyes flicker up to hers. The hopeful look on his face makes her heart start to race. There’s something mischievous and gorgeous in his eyes. A spark. “Good for Allen.”

Smiling, Felicity shakes her head, surprised by how natural it feels to hold his hand. Oliver Queen makes her nervous as hell, that’s for sure. But he also comforts her in a simple, innocent way. She has no idea why or how it feels so different than it had when they were kids.

Sure, she’d liked him then, too. But her crush on him made her so mad. She'd  _hated_ that she liked him. He was also that unattainable crush that she knew was more of a daydream than a reality.

Now...it feels like whoever she’d become in the last few years, and whoever he is now, just might have a chance of finding common ground. No longer the confused, angry teenagers they once were.

Oliver clears his throat, “just so you know, that day we stole Allen’s clothes after track practice, and you had to come back to school and bring him extras?” Felicity scoffs, remembering how she’d found Barry tip-toeing down the hall with a math book covering his manhood. “It was all Tommy’s idea.” Oliver raises his hands, grinning.

Felicity chuckles, “oh, sure. The two of you practically shared a brain. You fed off of each other.” She narrows her eyes, “don’t try to pass the blame. If you’re going to apologize to Barry, you might as well make it a three-way phone call. I’m sure Merlyn could use some good karma if he rights a few wrongs, too.”

Oliver’s hand instinctively tightens on hers, his eyes moving to the window while he inhales. “Tommy died a few years ago,” he mumbles.

Felicity sucks in a breath, “I’m sorry...” she whispers, “I haven't really kept up with Starling...I had no idea.”

Nodding, Oliver gives her a sad smile. “Drunk driver sophomore year of college.”

“Oh my god,” Felicity sighs, closing her eyes. She shakes her head, feeling guilty, for the first time, that she’d left for college and left everyone in Starling behind. When she opens her eyes, Oliver is watching her. Felicity stares up at him, her free hand moving to his knee. She can tell that he has more to say, and she offers him a tiny smile, hoping he’ll keep up whatever is happening between them.

The honesty is different, refreshing, and compelling. It’s the exact thing that would have made her fall in love with him in high school. She’d been right on the edge of it for four years.

“Losing Tommy...it was kind of just the beginning of rock bottom for me,” Oliver admits lowly. “I’m still trying to figure out what I want with my life, how I can get everything back on track.”

Felicity leans in, keeping her eyes on his as his fingers twitch in hers. She can tell how hard this was to swallow for him. How difficult it must have been. 

He tells her more about the years of his life she’d missed; the fact that he’s one year sober next month, how his family is, the passion he has for helping other people suffering from addictions like him. And she shares her own stories, too, never once feeling silly or guilty for telling him about her friends, her success. His eyes light up at she talks, and the pure  _pride_ that rolls off of him is incredible. 

It’s fascinating to see how calm Oliver is, how open. He’d always been charming, a people pleaser...but now it feels like he wants to let her in.

They spent hours in the restaurant. She spent  _hours_ huddled beside Oliver Queen; listening, talking, drinking coffee, and playing with his fingers. 

And when it’s finally time to leave, he walks her to her car.

“Oliver...” Felicity bites her lip as they reach her car, finally letting go of his hand. He instantly shoves them both into his pockets, looking a little bit uncomfortable without the contact. “I have a really strange favor to ask.”

He glances down at her suspiciously, watching her like he’s trying to see if he could read her mind. She smiles, shoving his shoulder, and he laughs. “Does it involve me doing something embarrassing so you can send a picture to Allen?”

She chuckles, “no, but that’s not a bad idea.” Felicity sighs, “I’m only asking because I’m afraid that you won’t do it. I had a really nice time with you tonight, and I don’t really know what that means or how to feel about that, but I don’t want to ruin it by not doing it and then regretting it later, you know?”

Oliver’s eyebrows furrow, “not...really...” he shakes his head, giving her an honest, confused expression that makes her smile.

 “Just... I don’t want you to feel like you have to because you think you owe me something, okay?”

“Well, if it’s you asking, I’ll do it,” Oliver says gently. “And not because I owe you anything.”

“Kiss me?”

“What?” He blinks.

“Look, I loved catching up with you. It was totally friendly. We talked, we laughed, we had a good time. I don’t mean to read too much into it if you thought it was a ‘friends’ kind of thing but there was all that hand holding and the confessed crush you used to have on me and the way you looked at me...if you can’t tell, I think a lot. I’m an over-thinker. And I feel like you’re being really cautious here, Oliver. But I don’t want to be cautious, for once... I just want to go with what I’m feeling, so, just, if you think this is platonic then that’s okay, but I just think there’s only one way we’re going to know if there's something more here and I know it's kind of a weird thing to ask but I'm just afraid—”

He lets out a low huff that sounds a lot like a growl, his eyes dropping to her lips. And then he closes the distance, backing her up against her car. 

Felicity swallows, catching her breath after all that talking, her heart jumping into her throat as Oliver cradles her between the car and his body. Despite the heat in his eyes and in the fingers that grip her hips, his lips are gentle when they meet hers. Slow and sweet. 

He kisses her tenderly, his hands coming up to hold her face, his fingers gently grazing her hair.

Oliver pulls back after a moment. “Definitely not platonic, Felicity,” he whispers, nuzzling his nose against hers before kissing her again.


	30. "A little extra leather and lace"

The irony of hunting down his own wife was that he really could have used her expertise to do it. Surely, with Felicity’s help, it wouldn’t have taken him a week. Being away from her for that long was never good for anyone. Especially now.

Finally, he’d found her though. He’d put together her plan and he’d followed her to the Glades. He figured out exactly which bar she’d planned on going and exactly which creep she’d planned on targeting.

He sat on a stool at a high top table in the corner, on high alert because his face wasn’t welcome in the Glades anymore, and all it’d take was one person recognizing him to turn the whole place into chaos.

Oliver spotted her rather quickly, wearing black lather pants and a matching black lace shirt that dipped between her breasts and showed off her stomach, a bra peeking beneath it of the same fabric. The brown haired wig didn’t deter him even for a moment.

His eyes fixated on his wife, recognizing every curve of her body like the back of his hand.

After a moment, she felt his stare, trained on her. And like the strong, quick woman that she was, Felicity started to look around the room, keeping her eyes blank and her expression neutral. To anyone else, she might look mildly curious. But to him…he noticed the way her shoulders stiffened, how intent her eyes were as she glanced over the faces in the crowd. Her instincts kicked in.

He held his breath, watching her profile until her eyes slowly slid to him, meeting his gaze from across the room. He didn’t bother hiding. Didn’t pretend to look away. Oliver stared at Felicity, raising his beer bottle towards her. And her face grew red, irritation flashing across her features. He watched as she slammed the tray of dishes in her hands down on the table she’d been clearing, making quick work of the space between them with her heels clicking across the linoleum.

“How the hell did you find me?” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

He sat back, letting his eyes wander over the cropped tank top and tight pants. “You think I don’t recognize you with a little extra leather and lace?”

“Go home, Oliver.”

“Not a chance in hell, Felicity. Not without you.” 

Her eyes flashed with anger, all of it directed at him. Some of it was deserved, but most of it was meant for other people. People who had hurt them. Torn their family apart. And for those people, Oliver had just as much hatred as his wife. She gripped the table in front of her, leaning across it with so much fury and pain in her gorgeous eyes.

God, he’d missed her.

“I came here to get away from you,” she growled.

“No, you didn’t” he shot back evenly. “You came here because you’re scared,” Oliver nodded confidently, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. He knew better now than to let her push him away. It’d taken almost fifteen years of marriage, but he’d chase that woman to the ends of the earth, so long as she wanted him to chase her. And Oliver knew better than anyone that if Felicity Smoak didn’t want to be found, he never would have been able to do it.

“I want you to leave, Oliver. You clearly don’t want to help me in this.”

Her stubbornness rivaled his own, and it was infuriating. “Now I’m only going to say this once. Turn around, and calmly walk out that back door before I throw you over my god damn shoulder and take you out of here kicking and screaming.” Oliver set his beer on the table, leaning forward and looking up at her with the best intimidation he could manage to convey while looking at the woman he loved.

She whimpered, her eyes widening, knowing that he would do it. “Oliver, please. I’ve been on this guy’s tail for weeks. If I don’t talk to him tonight, who knows when I’ll have another chance? He’s our  _only_ shot right now.” Her wide eyes welled with tears, making his heart stall for a moment, but he gained his composure and shook his head. “Please, baby,” she tried again.

Closing his eyes, Oliver sighed. But when he opened them, he did what he needed to do. “I said I wasn’t going to ask you twice, Felicity.” Slowly, he stood from his chair, and Felicity took a step back.

Oh, she was mad as hell. There very well may be pieces of her that hate him now. But he couldn’t back down and give in. Not when she was desperate enough to risk her life. Coming to the Glades completely alone and unarmed. “Fine,” Felicity seethed, practically spitting the words at him as she balled her hands into fists. Without another word, she stormed off towards the back exit, and he followed calmly behind her, dropping a few bills for his beer on the table.

When he got outside, she was stewing, leaning with her back on the brick wall across the alley and tapping her heeled foot against the pavement.

Mad. As.  _Hell_.

But he couldn’t let himself feel bad for forcing her hand. She wasn’t thinking clearly. And he wasn’t going to apologize for keeping her safe. Before he could find the right words, Felicity rolled her eyes and pushed off the wall, flying towards him with a finger ready to jab in his chest. “Why is it just me, Oliver!?” She screamed at him. “She’s supposed to be important to both of us! How am I  _alone_ in this? Don’t you care at all!? Damn you!” She pushed him, hard, and he let it knock him back a few steps, giving her space. He could see the tears threatening her eyes, and they inspired some of his own.

Felicity was too angry to stop. Closing the distance again, she pushed harder against his chest. And then again. And then one more time until his back collided with the brick wall behind him.

He lifted his hands, trying to think of  _anything_ that might ease her pain. But there was truly nothing. Nothing he could offer, because he was living in the same world of hurt that she was.

Instead, he acknowledged her heaving chest and the tears spilling down her cheeks. And he opened his arms for her. He knew what she would do with the vulnerability, but part of him allowed a whimsical hope that she might walk into his embrace, rest her head on his chest and let him hold her. Protect her. Comfort her. Like he always has.

Right now, that wasn’t what she needed from him. And it wasn’t what she wanted. So, Oliver wasn’t surprised when her tiny fist jabbed against his stomach, a sob wracking through her. She knew how to throw a good punch; this wasn’t her trying to injure him, it was her trying to get some of the frustration out that she’d been holding onto for far too long.

Her hands hit him again and again, exerting her energy more than doing any damage to either of them. And he pursed his lips and let her. He felt like he’d failed his wife in a number of ways, and if this was what she needed from him, then he’d let her. “Damn you, Oliver!” Felicity cried, slapping her open palm against his chest.

She didn’t let up. In fact, her blows only got stronger, her blood boiling the more her tears fell. And he was afraid she’d hurt her hand or exhaust herself before she gave up. “Hey, hey, hey,” he finally said gently, only making her grunt in response, punching him again. “Felicity,” he said, a little harsher this time, “that’s enough.”

Oliver took both of her wrists in his hands, carefully turning her around until her back was on the wall and he was standing in front of her, her fingers pinned by her head, intertwining with his. Catching her breath, Felicity closed her eyes, licking her lips. He stared at her, squeezing her hands in his. “You gave up, Oliver,” she whispered breathlessly, shaking her head at him.

“I would  _never_ give up. Not on her. And not on  _you_.”

“She’s our  _daughter_ ,” her voice broke, her eyes opening to look at him, more pain in her expression than he’d ever wanted to see.

It was haunting, something he knew he’d remember forever.

“She’s only thirteen. Someone has our  _baby_ , and you’ve done nothing. For three weeks, you’ve done  _nothing_!”

He growled, pushing Felicity’s hands into the wall a little harder and stepping closer, letting his nose graze hers, giving her nothing to focus on but his eyes. “Felicity, because of the lives that we lead…you and I have always feared that this could happen someday. But we were never prepared to cope with it…there’s no…it was not possible to be ready for  _this_. We both jumped into survival mode. We panicked, and we were desperate. I’ve been working to get her back just as you have. But we forgot the most important thing, the key of how to bring our daughter home.”

Felicity whimpered, her fingers loosening in his grasp as her body relaxed ever so slightly, her gaze trained on his eyes, finally listening. Finally ready to. He nodded, his nose skimming against hers. “You and me…we work best  _together_. Always have. There’s nothing like it, Felicity. And that’s how we’re going to bring Maya home.”

Her eyes slipped shut, a pained sound escaping from the back of her throat.

Oliver let go of her hands, pulling her against his chest.

“I love you, okay? I’m on your team. I will always be on your team.” He felt Felicity nod, burying her face into his neck. Smoothing his hands down her back, he gave her a moment just to feel. To understand that she didn’t need to run away and do this alone. Just to know that he was right there with her, and that for them, for their family, he believed in a happy ending.


	31. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am not most girls"

Anonymous said:

“In case you haven’t noticed, I am not most girls and I don’t need this. Or you. Or any of this.”

* * *

 

“He’s outside again,” Dinah growled, slamming the door to their dorm and throwing her bag onto the floor with force. 

“What?” Felicity snapped, dropping her book and rolling out of bed. She slid across the floor in her fuzzy socks, skidding to a stop at the window. With her roommate hovering over her shoulder, Felicity pulled back the white curtain, peering out at the parking lot.

His headlights stood out in the mostly vacant space. The majority of the students weren’t back from winter break yet. But Felicity grabbed an early flight to Boston and Dinah drove up to keep her company. Thank god.

She recognized his car by the big ‘BC LACROSSE’ sticker on his back window. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Dinah seethed. “Legitimate murder.”

“I’ll help you hide the body,” Felicity muttered back.

A moment later, he seemed to realize that he had their attention. Like the three nights prior, Felicity listened as the prick revved his engine before peeling out of the parking lot as if he was in the midst of a high speed chase. “Come on,” Dinah stood up, pulling her away from the window.

Felicity pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Where are we going?”

“Across the street.” Dinah answered as she tossed Felicity her boots.

“To public safety?” Their dorm was on the edge of campus, making for some eerie walks back to the building. But they also lived across the street from campus police, which definitely made Donna Smoak happy. “It’s winter break,” Felicity said, “are they even open?”

“Yup.”

She could tell that Dinah was furious. And Felicity knew that arguing would be a pointless battle. With a sigh, she slid on her boots, pulling her coat on over her sweater. They trekked across the street, and Felicity hung back as Dinah stormed into the tiny, too hot office that made her glasses fog up. 

“My friend is being stalked,” she announced, her long ponytail swinging with confidence. 

The guy sitting at the desk on the other side of the glass stared at her. And then he slid the window open. “What?”

“My friend Felicity here,” Dinah stepped up to the window, towering over the boy despite the counter between them. “We’ve had a creepy lacrosse player sitting outside our dorm for the last three nights.”

“How do you know he’s stalking you?”

Dinah glanced back at Felicity, surprisingly letting her answer. “Oh,” Felicity mumbled, “I went on a date with him last weekend. It didn’t work out, and I said no when he asked me out again. He was pretty butt-hurt about it.”

“And now he sits in the parking lot every night like a coward,” Dinah leaned towards the guy, and Felicity grabbed a hold of her jacket. He looked about their age, probably had the job through the school and was not paid nearly enough to deal with this. Felicity was certain that his job was to put parking tickets on peoples’ cars...not hunt down stalkers. “So what are you going to do about that?”

He blinked. “I can’t do anything about a guy sitting in the parking lot.” He said simply, unfazed.

Half-expecting Dinah to climb across the counter and claw his eyes out, Felicity was relieved when she simply narrowed her eyes, reading his name tag. “Rene,” she curled her nose. “You’re useless.”

In the next moment, Felicity was being dragged out the door. “New plan,” Dinah informed her, pulling her along as she marched down the street. She pulled out her cell phone. 

Sara answered on the second ring. “We’ll be walking by your building in five. Be ready.” Dinah clipped into the phone before hanging up.

Sighing, Felicity followed along, listening to Dinah rant about how pointless on-campus officers were if they couldn’t help in a crisis. She was mad enough for the both of them. And Felicity was a little out of breath, trying to keep up with Dinah’s rage-induced pace. 

When they got to Sara’s dorm, Dinah and Felicity explained that the lacrosse player had made his third show.

“Doesn’t he live on Blackthorne street? That green complex with the broken shutters.” Dinah demanded, setting her hands on her hips.

“I think so,” Sara answered.

“Wait,  _what_?” Felicity stopped, her eyes widening. “No way. We’re not confronting him. I thought we were going to the diner for milkshakes. I did not sign up for this.”

Sara and Dinah shared a look. “We won’t confront him,” Sara shrugged. “but we’ll definitely make him pay.”

Felicity groaned, “guys, come on. I don’t want any trouble.”

“You can go back to the room and finish your book, Felicity,” Dinah said easily, expecting her to put up a fight. “I’m doing this with or without you. It’s my room too that this psycho keeps trying to creep on it.”

“I know, but I mean...”

“He’s been freaking us out for three days, Felicity.” Dinah shook her head. “I’ve had enough. That entitled asshole needs to learn how to deal with the word ‘no.’”

Sara looped her arm through Felicity’s, “no pressure,” she mumbled gently, “I wouldn’t blame you...but don’t you ever feel like doing something a little crazy? Especially if the scumbag deserves it? That 24 hour convenient store is still open...”

Groaning, Felicity threw her hands up. “Fine...do I even want to know what you’re thinking?”

Of course, her friends weren’t going to tell her. If they told her, they knew she’d back out. So, Felicity was left to wrestle her anxiety while they walked to the store. And then it piqued when Sara came back out, a dozen eggs in a bag. “Oh, no.” Felicity shook her head, “we’re not egging anything.”

“You can go home whenever you want, Felicity. No one is forcing you to be here,” Dinah sang, skipping down the street happily now that she was getting her own justice. 

“Ugh,” Felicity whined, but she wanted some of the high Dinah and Sara were riding on. She could feel the excitement of doing something they probably shouldn’t. Even if the jerk deserved it. Letting that energy take over, Felicity followed her friends down the street, laughing as they danced towards the apartment building.

“There’s the beauty.” Dinah said as they turned onto his street. The first thing Felicity spotted was her stalker’s car. And Dinah’s eyes were on it, too.

Dinah checked her pockets, stalking across the parking lot like a badass while she pulled her pocket knife out. Without warning, she dragged the blade across the lacrosse player’s pretty black Porsche.

“Oh my god,” Felicity yelped. 

Raising an eyebrow and grinning wickedly at her, Sara thrusted the eggs into her arms and then skipped off after Dinah. She pulled out a tube of lipstick and carefully climbed onto the hood. Leaning over, Sara wrote ‘back off’ in pretty, cursive letters. Then she held out the lipstick to Felicity. “Have something you’d like to say?”

Felicity bit her lip, hesitating before rolling her eyes and giving in. She grabbed the tube from Sara’s waiting hand and rounded the car. Climbing onto the hood of the car, Felicity giggled as she scrawled ‘Ten Second Trent’ on his windshield.

Dinah and Sara snorted with laughter, and they all tried to keep quiet as they discussed the possibility of Trenton’s stamina in bed.

None of them were keeping an eye out though, stupidly...and they were all bent over and wheezing with laughter when they heard a car door close. 

Whipping around, Felicity, Dinah, and Sara all froze as a police office crossed his arms and leaned against his cruiser. “Good evening, ladies,” he greeted, raising his eyebrows as he read their messages to Trenton the Creep. 

“On the count of three,” Sara mumbled under her breath. “Everyone run. Meet back in my room.”

As Sara began counting down, Felicity felt adrenaline coursing through her veins. The cop looked like some kind of young body builder. Surely, he’d catch at least one of them. 

When Sara reached three, Dinah took off in one direction, and Sara took off in the other.

Felicity, on the other hand, froze. 

The cop pushed off his cruiser, taking a step towards them, deciding which friend of hers to chase. His eyes flashed with irritation and maybe a little bit of excitement. He pointed a finger at her, “don’t move,” he sighed, taking a step in Sara’s direction.

Not knowing what else to do, Felicity gasped, stepping in his path with her heart racing in her chest. And then she was suddenly pulling her shirt up.

As her nipples met the cold air, she squeezed her eyes shut, her entire body stiff as the cop stopped. “Shit,” he huffed. 

With the officer thoroughly distracted, she squinted one eye open to check on Dinah and Sara, seeing that they were no longer in sight. 

Felicity brought her shirt back down. Covering herself up again, she slowly met his eyes. The cop’s mouth was a hard line, his eyes wide as he stared at her. “I–um–that’s a first.” he gestured his hand in the direction of her breasts, keeping his eyes on hers.

“Yeah, same.”

He bit his lip, the wheels in his head turning for a long moment. Then he sighed. “Look, just tell me this kid isn’t an ex-boyfriend of you or one of your friends.”

Felicity shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “Stalker lacrosse player.”

The cop’s eyes narrowed, “I’ll let this slide. Pretend I never saw you. Just...if he bothers you again, come down to the station and ask for Oliver Queen. Don’t provoke him or give him a reason to say he’s the victim here. Next time, you do it right.”

She stared at him, noticing how  _insanely_ attractive he was. More so than he’d been when she thought she was about to spend her life in prison. Oliver. “You’re just going to let me go? That’s it?”

She had no idea why she would push the issue. She was a genius, after all, and she should know when to keep her mouth shut.

Oliver’s lip twitched with a smile. “Yeah,”

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that you just saw my boobs?”

“Oh, it probably has a  _little_ to do with that...would you rather I question you?” He grinned now, an adorable dimple forming on his cheek. “Shouldn’t you be running off before I change my mind or something like that?”

“Right,” she nodded once, straightening her back and walking quickly past him, wishing she didn’t have to make the trek back alone. Trenton was already creepy enough, she didn’t want to know how he’d react to having his car vandalized. There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d stop until she got to the safety of Sara’s dorm.

“What’s your name?” Oliver asked, stepping towards her. Felicity turned to narrow her eyes at him, cocking her head to the side. He laughed, “I’m not trying to trick you into a confession...I’d just like to know your name.”

“Felicity.”

His smile surprised her. Sweet and kind. “Where are you headed, Felicity?”

“A few blocks north,” she answered, her voice suspicious.

“I’ll give you a ride.” Oliver offered. Her eyes narrowed even more. Now not only was he letting her walk away from a scene of a crime, but he was going to be the alibi for her escape?

Or maybe... “I’m not going to lead you to my friends.”

Oliver shook his head, laughing again. He opened the passenger door of his cruiser. “Between you and me, Felicity... I don’t care to arrest you or your friends. Some guys like that deserve the inconvenience of having to ask their daddy for a new car. Whatever that asshole did to scare you...he pissed you off enough to do that,” he gestured to the car, “and that tells me that he probably deserves a lot worse. I think we both know that.”

“But...you’re a police officer.”

“And I’m a good one,” he shrugged, nodding his head towards the waiting car. “Let me take you home, Felicity.”

Before she could answer, the door to Trenton’s building swung open and he came barreling out. Felicity instinctively stepped closer to Oliver, but Trenton’s attention was on his precious Porsche. “What the  _hell_?” He seethed, rounding his car and looking it over. 

When he glanced around the parking lot, he finally noticed them. Trenton blinked a few times, confused at the sight of her standing beside a police officer. But then he decided he didn’t care. Or his anger was too blinding to care. He wheeled towards her, his eyes wild as he pointed a finger at her. “You did this!”

People yelling always tended to make he cower, and she did exactly that. As Trenton moved closer, Oliver stepped between them, making him pause.

“I know it was you! You stupid bitch!”

The pure fury in his voice had her instantly stepping behind Oliver, whose back stiffened, his broad form standing tall between her and Trenton. At least the douchebag was smart enough to stop, especially when Oliver casually rested a hand on his gun, using his body to block Felicity from view. “Is there a problem here?”

“Yeah, you idiot! Do you see my car!? That bitch keyed my car!”

“Well, I didn’t see her do it,” Oliver said calmly. “You didn’t see her do it. From what I’ve gathered, this woman is just walking back from a friend’s house.”

“I don’t see anyone else here!” Trenton screamed. “She did it! I know she did!” He leaned around Oliver’s shoulder and met Felicity’s eyes. And they were raging, matching the malice in his next words. “I’ll kill you,” he seethed through his teeth, his temper blinding his common sense.

Clearing his throat, Oliver moved again, protecting her. “Is that a threat?” He asked, cocking his head to the side and placing a hand on Trenton’s chest.

Oliver stepped closer to Felicity, keeping her just behind his back and out of view from Trevor’s incensed gaze. “No,” Trenton grumbled, taking a deep, calming breath. “No, it wasn’t a threat, sir. But she wrecked my car and I intend to press charges.”

Jeesh. The guy’s anger dissipated quickly, changing into calculation and control.

“Why would she do that?” Oliver asked, his tone not letting on that he knew a damn thing. “Have you even met this woman before? Because all I see right now is a deranged man making threats against a woman’s life.” 

Trenton huffed out a breath of annoyance, realizing that in order to get  _her_ into trouble for the damage to his car, he’d have to admit that he’d been sitting outside of her building in it for the past week. 

“I’ve met her,” Trenton snapped. “Trust me, this is something she would do. She’s a crazy bitch.”

Oh, like hell.

The tension in Oliver’s shoulders returned, like he wanted to let go of his own temper, and Felicity watched as he deliberately bit it back. “Is there a reason she would want to write ‘back off’ on your window?” Oliver asked, his voice dropping. It was almost threatening. Challenging Trenton to keep this up. 

“No,” she heard him respond. “No reason at all.” 

She stared at Oliver’s back, listening to Trenton stomp off. As soon as she heard his door slam, knowing that he wasn’t going to come back at her, Oliver turned around. Felicity didn’t move, and he didn’t back up either, which left them just a foot apart. She had to lift her chin to look up at him. His breath was heavy, his shoulders still tense. “You...are a very strange cop.”

His eyes flickered away from her, and she watched with fascination while he took a deep breath, exhaling as he closed his eyes. Like he was trying to get control of his anger. It surprised her, since he’d been cool a cucumber while Trenton flew off the handle. His hands shook like a hot head waiting to smash his fist into something.

She’d dated one too many explosive personalities. She knew the signs. And she took a step back. 

Sensing her retreat, Oliver’s eyes opened, and the look behind them was so raw, yet different. He was trying to calm down, but the anger rolling off of him wasn’t alarming. It almost made her feel safe in a way. “I’ll take you home,” he gritted out, nudging by her to open the passenger door of his cruiser. 

Felicity crossed her arms, “thank you for letting my friends and I off the hook. And for stopping that psycho from hulking out. But I think I can walk.”

“You want to walk home?” Oliver raised his eyebrows, “after all of that? Do you really think that kid is going to go stew in his room until he calms down?”

As if on cue, Felicity glanced up at the apartment, and caught a glimpse of Trenton dropping the curtain as soon as she did. Okay,  _creepy_. “I’m not afraid of him.” She flat out  _lied_.

“That’s nice.” Oliver clipped, his tone harsh as his eyebrows shot up. “Get in the car, Felicity.”

Planting her feet, Felicity glared at him. “You don’t even know me. Don’t tell me what to do.”

His eyes narrowed, and she honestly had no idea where the fire was coming from. Probably Trenton’s fault. She knew she was lucky to not be in handcuffs, yet she didn’t do as the officer said. Maybe it was because he didn’t act like a typical officer.

“Fine,” Oliver hissed through his teeth, irritated at her stubbornness. “ _Please_ get in the car.”

“No.”

After a long moment of staring, Oliver growled. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he snapped, slamming the door closed and marching back over to her. “I’m going to drive you back your place. You’re going to make sure that all your doors and windows are locked. Then I’m going to let the next guy on duty watch out for that stupid Porsche. And then,” he spoke lowly, commanding as he held her gaze. “And then tomorrow morning, I’m going to come pick you up, and we’re going to file a police report against this creep. And we’re going to make sure that he stays far the hell away from you and any other woman around here.”

With that speech, Felicity let out a deep breath, blinking back tears as she finally accepted how fracking overwhelming the last few minutes had been. She sidestepped Oliver, storming over to the cruiser and getting in. 

He followed after her, a little slower, but she refused to look at him as he climbed in beside her. She didn’t speak as he pulled out of the parking lot, watching Trenton in the window again, glaring down at them. Oh, he’d be back. If she didn’t have a man in a uniform with a gun on his hip, Felicity felt certain that Trenton would’ve been much more violent. She shivered.

“Felicity,” Oliver grumbled her name as if she’d been getting on his nerves for years rather than minutes. “What is wrong with you? Most girls would be happy to accept a ride home after a lunatic screamed that he would kill her.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I am not most girls and I don’t need this. Or you. Or any of this.” Her voice was shaking, and she was furious that she seemed doomed for the worst. Like she had a sticker on her forehead that said ‘if you’re really screwed up, I’m the girl for you!’

It was just her luck with men. She didn’t just end up with the typical, mindless frat boys. She ended up with the stalkers and the creeps. First it was Cooper with his manipulation, lying, and stealing her work. Now it was Trenton and his stalking, yelling, and threatening. How many more guys like that would she have to put up with? Maybe she was just a magnet for them. Her father certainly set the example.

Sniffling, Felicity realized a couple of traitorous tears had escaped and she quickly swiped them away, hoping Oliver Queen didn’t see.

He noticed.

And he glanced from her to the road and back. But he let her be, only speaking to whisper, “which way?” And she guided him through the streets until he pulled up in front of her building. She opened the door immediately, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “Hey,” he said softly. “I know you don’t know me, but trust me when I say that I’m not going to let him hurt you.” His eyes darkened a bit, “I am not an enemy that  _Trenton_ wants to have.”

Not knowing what else to say, Felicity nodded. She believed it. But she couldn’t expect him to put himself in the middle of it. Cop or not.

“This isn’t your fault.” Oliver reminded her. Because unfortunately she needed it. “Guys like that...they’re ticking time bombs. And bombs need to be dismantled before they explode.” He gave her a reassuring smile, “I promise I’m pretty good at that.” 

She nodded, letting herself be comforted by his words, eyes, smile, and the warm hand still on her arm. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Felicity swallowed, nodding along as she got lost for a moment, confused by the concern in his eyes. The depth. “Okay,”

“Get some rest, Felicity,” he whispered, and this time the order was much less demanding. A suggestion. 

Opening the door, Felicity got out and headed into her building. And he waited until the door locked behind her before he drove away.


	32. "I don't even have a regular plan" ARGUS part 4

anonymous asked: Is it cheaty to just request whichever quotes you had in mind for the next part of the Argus au 🤔 lmao

I love this ask. And I’ve gotten plenty of requests for the next A.R.G.U.S chapter… so yay! Finally here, y’all! #10 from my [prompts ](http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/post/178064640079/arrow-out-of-context-sentence-prompts-part-three)is the one that spoke to me, anon ;)

_“Please tell me you have a brilliant plan.”_

_“I don’t even have a regular plan.”_

Chapter [1](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F14957309%2Fchapters%2F34661439&t=MmQ4M2I1MWMzNzc3NTYyZWYyZmFlN2YyNzE3YjA0MTA3MGI3ZDJiMiw2bFRpWlRxVA%3D%3D&b=t%3AfOl6jXrwLGroyIH5zb4zrA&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsmoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182592053159%2Fis-it-cheaty-to-just-request-whichever-quotes-you&m=1), [2](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F14957309%2Fchapters%2F34662153&t=YTE2YWNkOGNmNThkMTdjNTYyZmUyYmFkZGNlZmMxZWE4ZDBmNDFkOCw2bFRpWlRxVA%3D%3D&b=t%3AfOl6jXrwLGroyIH5zb4zrA&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsmoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182592053159%2Fis-it-cheaty-to-just-request-whichever-quotes-you&m=1), and [3](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F14957309%2Fchapters%2F35265710&t=OTY3NmVmYWVhNjA0ZmE5Mzc2MjI1YWZiMjdjOWI4ZmU2MTM5NTg4Miw2bFRpWlRxVA%3D%3D&b=t%3AfOl6jXrwLGroyIH5zb4zrA&p=http%3A%2F%2Fsmoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182592053159%2Fis-it-cheaty-to-just-request-whichever-quotes-you&m=1)

* * *

More than twenty four hours without sleep wasn’t a good look. 

Her eyes had bags under them, her skin was pale and she felt like absolute crap. Felicity had spent the majority of the last hours modifying Director Michaels’ chip. If all went according to plan, then it could be easily injected via syringe, and it would temporarily stunt any rogue agent by shutting down the function of their legs. 

Oliver was still brooding about her presence, but he’d insisted that she explain the modifications to his team. So, she’d stood in front of the red haired woman who talked to herself, Cupid, the creep who’d hit on her, Deadshot, and a scary looking man who had listened silently to her explanation while he sharpened his retractable knives that fit like claws, Bronze Tiger.

The mission was to replace Shrapnel, but his intended replacement seemed crazier than Cupid. 

Oliver had gone over the case with her while she worked, filling her in on everything A.R.G.U.S knew about Helena Bertinelli, accurately known as the Huntress to the people who survived her slaughters. She was on a one woman mission to avenge her fiance’s death, who A.R.G.U.S had learned died at the hands of the woman’s own father. Which explained the whole ‘hunting him down and trying to kill him’ thing. 

After the whirlwind of a day, it was impossible not to close her eyes on the plane. If she was going to be any use in Ivy Town, then she needed her brain to not stall out. It felt odd to feel so comfortable surrounded by criminals on a tiny plane who she’d just told she would paralyze if they didn’t follow orders. But she knew that it beat Lyla’s plan of putting bombs in their heads. Not only that, but Felicity felt completely at ease because Oliver Queen sat in the seat beside her, Bertinelli’s file open in his lap and his head bowed as he poured over it for the millionth time.

Felicity wondered if he was hoping a new detail would jump off the page at him. She also wondered if every mission got him wound this tight, or if maybe he was feeling an extra layer of stress because  _she_ was involved with this one. 

Oliver seemed worried, and Felicity was trying not to get her hopes up that maybe his stress stemmed from concern for her. 

And that was how she’d fallen asleep, watching Oliver out of the corner of her eye and wondering about him.

Felicity didn’t wake up until the plane’s wheels were hitting the ground five hours later. Groaning, she picked her head up from a very hard yet comfortable shoulder. She blinked her eyes open, meeting Oliver’s gaze as he turned to look down at her. “Sorry,” she sighed, her cheeks flaming. Oliver was still in the seat beside her, leaning back as he looked out of the window, the file closed on his lap. 

He’d let her sleep on him. And as she fidgeted with her fingers and hoped she didn’t snore or drool on him, Oliver offered a smile. Felicity returned it, glancing away. She noticed the blanket over her lap, and she frowned down at it, not remembering falling asleep with one. Inhaling, Felicity looked back at Oliver, shaking her head because it didn’t seem fair that a man could be so beautifully strong and soft at the same time. Bunching the blanket between her fists, she leaned around him to see out the window, giving her back and arms a much-needed stretch. “This is Ivy Town, huh?”

“Mm-hm,” Oliver hummed, pursing his lips.

They stayed silent while the pilot pulled into the hanger, while the team got out and got their things quickly, and then piled into a waiting SUV. It took them to a hotel, and Felicity followed them wordlessly and without question. She let Oliver lead her through the lobby, into an elevator, and up to a room. He slipped a card to Deadshot, and they keyed into two doors, side by side. Once inside, Oliver gently nudged her to sit on the bed, and she watched while he began setting up equipment. 

After a few seconds, a knock came from the door leading the next room, and Oliver swung it open, letting Floyd Lawton, Carrie Cutter, and Ben Turner in.

Felicity sighed, watching and taking it all in; the way they operated, worked with each other wordlessly. She’d done her research on Oliver’s little team, making sure that the people he put his life in the hands of were capable of keeping him safe. And she had to admit, she was impressed by all three of them. Despite the circumstance, it was clear that the three criminals who didn’t have much say in their situation…respected Oliver. The same way that she observed the fact that Oliver respected them. 

“Bertinelli and his men have set up shop across the street,” Deadshot eventually mumbled from his stance at the window, looking down at the restaurant below. “They’re in the back room, so Huntress will have to make her way through a crowded restaurant and some muscle before she can reach him.”

“Well,” Oliver raised his eyebrows, “she doesn’t care about civilians, so we need to make sure we get to her with as little casualties as possible.” 

“What’s the plan, boss?” Turner asked, crossing his arms as he leaned in the doorway between the hotel rooms.

“Cutter and I will stake out the restaurant and grab Helena if she shows up. Lawton, you’ll be on the roof of the hotel in position. Turner, I’ve got you set up as security at the front door.”

The man known as Bronze Tiger sighed, shaking his head. “Why is it always me that ends up as a doorman, waiter, or driver?”

Oliver smirked, “because Deadshot is more valuable from vantage points. And your knives are easier to hide when you’re playing a role nearby.”

“And Cutter just gets to play the arm candy,” Lawton scoffed.

Cupid poked his arm, throwing him a flirtatious wink, “you can be Ollie’s arm candy next time, sugar. Or  _mine_ ,” she reached for Floyd Lawton, and he sidestepped her, shivering as he swatted her hand away.

Clearing her throat to get their attention, Felicity raised an eyebrow at Oliver. “What about me?”

He gave her a challenging look in return. “You’ll be right here. In this hotel room. Not moving and not causing any trouble.”

“You brought me all the way here just to sit in a hotel room?”

“Oh no,” Oliver argued. “I brought you here because Lyla forced my hand. This mission doesn’t require your assistance, Ms. Smoak. I think we have it handled. Why don’t you just help yourself to a drink and relax?” He gestured to the mini fridge, and Felicity narrowed her eyes. She really didn’t like or appreciate his condescending tone. As if she was a useless rookie who had no value there. 

His demeanor was the complete opposite of how he’d looked at her on the plane. And Felicity knew that Oliver saw her value, which led her to believe that he was dismissing her for other reasons. “Are you annoyed by my presence, Mr. Queen? Or are you just worried about me?”

His eyes flashed with anger, and she stared back, daring him to contradict her. He could fake the arrogant asshole act all he wanted. She knew the truth. Oliver cared for her. And he wanted her to stay in the room because he didn’t want her to get hurt. She nodded to herself, lifting her chin at him in challenge. As the others moved away, coughing to cover their laughter, Oliver stepped towards her. 

“Listen,” he said lowly, his voice a delicious rumble in his chest. “Director Michaels ordered me to bring you so you can keep an eye on the implants and make sure they function correctly. You’re not here to play spies. Felicity, I wouldn’t even put veteran agents in the field on this one.” His eyes flickered to the team, darker when he looked back to her. “That’s what  _they’re_ here for.” Oliver’s voice dropped as he leaned closer to her, his lips just a breath away, “so please don’t confuse my vigilance in not wanting to take you home in a body bag, with me not having my head on straight because I’m…what? In love with you?” He shook his head at her, making her feel five shades of red and embarrassed. “Trust me, you’re staying here because it’s the safest thing for all of us. And I’d like to bring myself and my team back alive.”

She clenched her jaw, feeling the slight sting of rejection. It was a coward’s rejection. Halfhearted and masked. But it still stung. And it threw her off. Felicity crossed her arms over her chest, trying to keep her face from showing any kind of surprise, hurt, or anger. “Okay,” she said neutrally, “guess you better get going then.”

Oliver watched her for another moment, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed her. And she didn’t want to fool herself into thinking she saw a hint of regret in his eyes or heard an apology in his sigh. 

After they left, Felicity paced, listening on the comms while Cupid and Oliver made their way to the restaurant, got seated, and ordered a nice bottle of wine to have with their fake romantic date. Clearly he didn’t wish he was there with  _her_ instead. Oh no. Despite everything he’d said the last few weeks, or even the last twenty-four hours, all the flirting and the looks…she was just an unwanted toddler that Lyla insisted he bring along. In his eyes, she was apparently so incompetent that she had to sit in time-out or else she might ruin everything. 

Her spiral combined with listening to Oliver and Carrie feign a relationship while their waiter took their orders was making Felicity stir-crazy. What was the point in bringing her, if not to use her expertise with the actual implantation of Helena Bertinelli’s chip? 

Well, consider this her temper tantrum.

Grabbing her heels, Felicity quickly left the room, putting them on as she walked to the elevator. Then she rode down to the hotel lobby, deciding to sit at the bar as a compromise with herself. Not going near the restaurant, but not staying in the room either. And she listened through the earpiece while Mr. Bertinelli and his men arrived. 

Deadshot arranged himself into position on the roof of the hotel, prepared for anything. Oliver and Cutter kept careful watch for Helena, and Turner kept an eye on the door, informing them of potential recruits Helena could have roped in to help her with whatever she had planned for her own father’s murder.

Felicity sighed, spinning her straw around in her glass of water and watching the ice swirl. What she really wanted was wine. But she knew that giving Oliver more reason to think of her as foolish and unprofessional was a bad idea. She glanced up, taking a sip from her straw while scanning the little hotel restaurant. And Felicity coughed when she recognized Helena Bertinelli, her long dark hair and piercing blue eyes unmistakable from the pictures she’d seen. Felicity choked on the water in her throat, catching the attention of the man beside her, who kindly tapped her on the back and looked at her like he was afraid she might bite the dust. 

“Felicity?” She heard Oliver’s muffled voice in her ear.

“I’m fine,” she said aloud, smiling at the man sitting a chair away. “Thank you,” she said, waving him off kindly. Felicity caught her breath, grateful that she hadn’t made so big a scene that Helena noticed her from six stools down the bar where she sat. The woman looked bored. Not like a premeditated murderer who planned on finally succeeding in her evil murder plans in the very near future. She wasn’t sure how to alert the others without saying it out loud. For all she knew, Helena, or even a co-conspirator within earshot, would hear. Did the squad have code words for things like this that no one had bothered to teach her? Was there some kind of bird call they used for when the bad guys were close? Did they just yell ‘pineapple!’ into their earpiece? 

Wow, she was way too meticulous to make a good spy.

So she sat. And squirmed. And probably glanced in Helena Bertinelli’s direction a few times too many. 

But after five minutes, the woman stood up, paid her check, picked up her purse, and left. Felicity watched after her, noticing that she turned towards the hotel, not the exit doors that would lead her to the restaurant across the street where her father had just shown up. 

Standing up, Felicity followed, her heart pounding in her chest. “Trouble,” she whispered, trying to cover her mouth so as not to look like a loony talking to herself. “She’s here.”

“What?” Oliver growled back. “In our room?”

“Uh,” Felicity winced, “no. The lobby. The bar in the lobby,” her eyes scanned the space for Helena, catching her jet-black hair turning down the hallway towards the pool.

As the crowd cleared, Felicity moved after her, knowing that losing sight of her might be the end of the mission. “Leave it, Felicity,” Oliver practically snarled.

“She’s not going to the restaurant,” Felicity mumbled back on the open line, grateful that the hallway was empty. “She left the bar and now she’s on the first floor hall, down where the pool and gym are?”

“Deadshot,” Oliver sighed, not needing to say anything else before Lawton chimed in, the sound of bullets hitting the ground as he unloaded his gun, a casual “on it,” in reply.

“You,” Oliver said next, for some reason his tone making it clear that he meant her. “Get in the elevator and go back to the room. Lock the door until I get there. That’s an order, Felicity.”

She bit her lip, seeing Helena turn towards the bathrooms. Where there were windows. Escapes. The ladies room was an acceptable place for Felicity to wander into and make sure there weren’t any beautiful, psychotic killers jumping out the window. “I’m just going to check on something.”

“Felicity,” Oliver seethed. She heard his chair slide back as he huffed.

“Not so fast, sugar,” Cutter’s voice came next. “Sit your ass down or I’ll cause a scene. No chance in hell you’re walking out of here and leaving me on my own against a table of mobsters.”

Oliver growled back while Felicity trailed after Helena. She turned the corner to the women’s restroom, her hand outstretched for the door, but the dark-haired Huntress was already standing in front of it. Waiting.

Felicity yelped, and the woman cocked her head to the side. “Who are you? And why are you following me?” 

Her heart racing, Felicity forced a smile. “Following you? I was just looking for the restroom.” She gestured to the door, “if you’ll excuse me.” 

When Felicity reached for the door again, the Huntress caught her by the wrist, “I saw you watching me. Who sent you?”

“No-no one sent me. I was actually just wondering where you bought your dress,” she inhaled as Helena narrowed her eyes. It wasn’t even a lie. The thought  _had_ crossed her mind. “It looks couture and I couldn’t stop wondering who designed it. I’m a bit of a fashion buff,” Felicity laughed nervously, “not that I make enough money to really afford my taste, but it’s always nice to look, right?”  
  


Helena stared at her, sizing her up. And her thought process was transparent. Felicity had clearly raised some red flags in the woman’s paranoid mind. But she wasn’t threatening or “cop-like” which made the Huntress pause.

“There you are!”

At the sound of Oliver’s voice, Felicity spun around, and Helena released her grip on her wrist. She flinched, forcing another smile as she watched Oliver approach. He smiled naturally, leaning down and surprising her when he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I’ve been looking all over for you, honey. Are you ready to eat? My brother is waiting in the lobby for us.” Then he cocked his head to the side, looking down at Helena. “Who’s this?” he asked curiously, offering a wide, charming smile that Felicity had never seen on his face before. But damn, was it sexy. 

The Huntress watched for a moment, her eyes shifting between them as Oliver wrapped his arm around Felicity’s waist and pulled her protectively against his side. His hand rubbed over her back, his expression friendly and oblivious as Helena analyzed him. “No one,” the woman whispered, “sorry for the confusion.”

At that, Oliver gave her a naturally confused look, as if he had no idea why the terrifying lady was acting so strange. Taking a casual step back, he pulled Felicity along. “Well…okay then….” Oliver guided her away, back down the hall the way she’d followed Helena. 

Felicity could feel the woman’s eyes on the back of her head, even before Oliver leaned down to her ear. “Don’t turn around, just act normal, Felicity.”

“I’m not sure I’m capable of that,” she breathed, shivering slightly as she rubbed her wrist, which was already hurting from Helena’s tight grip. 

He chuckled, muttering “don’t I know it,” under his breath. Then he surprised her again, pressing his lips against her temple in another gentle kiss. And she knew that it was definitely for the prying eyes she could still feel on her back. But it still felt nice, too. “Are you hurt?” Oliver asked.

“I’ll be fine. Just a bruise.”

“She did that?” He asked, his jaw clenching a bit, his voice low as they retreated to the elevator. 

“I’ll be fine,” Felicity repeated, looking up at his face. She was confused by the darkness in Oliver’s eyes and the tense shape of his lips, the flash of anger that crossed his expression as he looked down at her wrist. 

The elevator doors opened, and Oliver pressed his palm against her lower back, stepping inside. 

“Please tell me you have a brilliant plan,” she mumbled through a smile, glancing up at Oliver.

The serial killer with daddy issues was clearly onto them. She hesitated in the hallway, continuing to watch them.

“I don’t even have a regular plan,” he sighed. Oliver rubbed his thumb against Felicity’s back, each of their eyes landing on Helena as the doors closed behind them.

 


	33. "It's not that simple"

Anonymous said: How about number 17? I'd love to see that one in one of your stories!

 

_“It’s not that simple.”_

_"No, Felicity. If anything is simple, it’s this.”_

* * *

Sometimes she forgets.

Sometimes it’s hard, in the early morning hours, to remember that her life isn’t in constant danger.

Sometimes she opens her eyes, and her first thought isn’t about the fear of the criminal they chased the night before coming back for revenge.

Sometimes...she wakes up to a peaceful blizzard outside her window. A world of white outside the house in Ivy Town that she and Oliver had always hoped to call home again one day. 

And on this particular, silent, blissful morning, her husband’s familiar scent is all over her, his lips on her neck.

Blinking, Felicity tilts her head, giving Oliver more access. “Kids?” She groans.

“Watching cartoons,” Oliver mumbles into her throat. 

“No school?” Her eyebrows furrow.

He chuckles, “I’m surprised the screams of ‘snow day!’ didn’t wake you earlier. Mia's already asking to go to John and Lyla's.”

Felicity grins, imaging how  _that_ conversation went. Mia recently found out that Lyla was the infamous Harbringer, thanks to her pesky curiosity, hacking skills, and an interest in the secrets of the United States government. 

Her aunt has recently become ‘the most badass person' she knows, which tends to put her father in a grumpy mood. Jealous as the poor man is. “Work?” Felicity sighs.

“Mmm,” Oliver hums back, letting his tongue tease her ear, making her shiver. “Done. For now. Sex?”

“ _Oliver!”_ She laughs, making him chuckle, too.

“Just kidding,” he teases, trailing his hand up her thigh, pushing the blanket off her hip. “Sort of.”

“Did the kids eat?”

“Not yet,” Oliver kisses her shoulder, “they’re just waiting for you to wake up.”

Smiling, Felicity stretches, turning to face her husband. Spending an unexpected day inside with her family sounds too perfect to pass up. “I think I’ll stay home today, too.”

After making sure she’s properly kissed good morning, Oliver heads for the shower, leaving her to get dressed and find their children, seated in front of the television watching cartoons just as she was told they’d be. “Good morning, monkeys,” Felicity greets them.

Mia throws her a look over the couch, rolling her eyes. “I’m a little old for ‘monkey’, mom.”

“Ah,” Felicity nods, “yeah, okay. Right.” Her eyes flicker to her son, who is too wrapped up in his show to realize her presence yet.

The teenager glances back at her, a gentle apology in her eyes. “Good morning,” Mia tries again, and Felicity smiles. “Can I go to Connor’s?”

Felicity sighs, “maybe later. We haven’t all been home together in a while,” she steps closer, ruffling Eli’s hair and kissing the top of his head. “Let’s just relax for a while.” 

Much like most of the words that come out of her mouth lately, Felicity earns herself a dramatic eye roll from her fifteen year old heathen.

“Mommy!” Eli yells when he notices Felicity, scrambling over the couch and launching himself into her arms. “You finally waked up!”

“I know!” Felicity hugs him close, “Sorry, monkey. Mommy was  _so_ tired this morning.”

“Yeah,” Mia snorts, “well you’ve barely been home all week.”

“Uh huh,” Eli nods along to his sister’s words. “Momma, I haven’t seen you in _years_.”

Felicity stalls, looking down at her son first, holding him a little closer and feeling her heart clench at how tightly he latches on. Of course, she’d seen them both every day. But for a five year old, a bedtime story each night isn’t enough.

It isn’t enough for her, either.

And it apparently isn’t enough for Mia, who is beginning to harbor some serious angst. Or her husband, who gets their kids up on a snow day and then climbs back into bed just so he have an extra moment in bed with her. Felicity swallows, blinking as she glances at Mia. “Well,” she clears her throat, “you know what makes a snow day on a Friday even sweeter?” Eli’s eyes widen, hanging on her words, and even Mia narrows her bright green, always curious eyes. Felicity sighs, “Daddy’s pancakes for breakfast.”

 _That_ catches Mia’s attention, her eyebrow raising with interest. “Blueberry?”

“Chips!” Eli hollers.

“Well, if we’re making blueberry _and_ chocolate chip, we better go get the batter started.” She tickles Eli, “you’re going to have to come help, make sure your sister and I don’t burn down the kitchen!” 

She might take after Oliver in personality and badass-ness, but Mia got all of her cooking instincts from the Smoak side. Poor kid.

“That’s daddy’s job!” Eli giggles.

“Daddy’s in the shower. You’ll have to stand in for him and supervise, little man. You don’t want Mia and I to ruin the pancakes, do you?”

Eli shakes his head seriously, “no way.”

As they head to the kitchen, Felicity starts gathering the ingredients while Eli works on climbing onto a stool at the counter and Mia sets her sights on the radio, playing with it until she finds a station she likes.

Thank god for unexpected snow storms. Because this is exactly what Felicity needs out of life right now. Well, minus _one_ thing.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, she feels the familiar weight of Oliver’s hands on her hips a moment later. He rests his chin on her shoulder, “mmm,” he hums, “pancakes.”

“Daddy’s here!” Eli shouts, jumping from the stool in a daring move that has Felicity tensing, although he lands on his feet, just as he always does. The most graceful toddler to exist. “I don’t need to _super_ _lies_ you and Mia no more, mommy. Can I watch toons?”

“Just until breakfast is ready,” Oliver answers, shaking his head at Eli, who is already running for the television. Then he lifts a hand from Felicity’s waist, tossing it playfully through Mia’s blonde curls. “Mom got  _you_ to help cook?”

Mia grins, shoving Oliver’s hand away. “I didn’t want her to hurt herself,” she sticks her tongue out.

“Ah,” Oliver winks, squeezing Felicity’s waist. “Good call.”

Mia might not be the best cook, but she’d loved to help Oliver in the kitchen ever since she was little. It’s also where Oliver tends to get the most information out of their stubborn daughter. For whatever reason, cooking with her dad makes her talk, spill all her secrets about whatever is bothering her. It works like magic, really.

And today is no different. By the time the first pancakes are golden brown, Mia shows her cards. “When is Will coming home?”

She asks it innocently enough, not looking up from the handful of blueberries she’s dropping into a bowl of batter. But her parents share a look. “We don’t know...” Oliver sighs. “He’s really busy with work, Mia. You know he just got a new job in Central City.”

“Then can I go visit him?” She purses her lips, still not looking at either of them.

With a sigh, Oliver puts down the spatula, coming around the counter until he can put an arm around each of his girls’ shoulders. “I miss William too, Mia.” He tells her, squeezing Felicity’s arm. “He’s just very busy right now. How about we see if he has some time to video chat later?”

Mia bites her lip, giving a small nod. And Oliver kisses her forehead, and then Felicity’s before moving back towards the pancakes, flipping them with perfect timing. 

After pancakes come board games. And of course Mia wins all of them. Then they watch movies, bake cookies, call William, and entertain Eli with a game of hide and seek. 

By the time Eli is ready for a nap, Mia’s antsy again. The girl can never sit still.  _That_ , she gets from  _both_ of her parents.

“Can I go to Connor’s  _now?”_ She asks as soon as Felicity comes back from Eli’s room, plopping herself down on the couch beside her husband. 

Oliver shrugs, “sure.”

Felicity throws him a look. “Are you sure Aunt Lyla and Uncle John don’t mind?”

Mia rolls her eyes, “Connor said I could come over any time. JJ bought a new drone and they want me to help them put it together. And Aunt Lyla said she’d tell me more ARGUS stories,” her green eyes grow wider, fascination behind her gaze.

“Okay,” Felicity purses her lips. “Dad will walk you.”

Rolling her eyes again, Mia stands up. “I can walk down the street by myself, mom. I’m fifteen.”

“Just...” Felicity huffs, “it’s icy and it’s getting dark. Humor me for once, please? Let Dad walk you over.”

With yet another roll of her eyes, Mia gives in, going to her room to get changed. Oliver sighs, pulling Felicity closer. He kisses her cheek, “she just misses you,” he mumbles against her skin.

“I know,” Felicity whispers back, closing her eyes and leaning her head into his. “Speaking of that, I’m quitting my job.”

Chuckling, Oliver rubs his nose against hers. “You own Smoak Tech. You can’t quit it. We’ll go broke.”

“Yeah, well, my son told me this morning that he hasn’t seen me in  _years_. So, I’m firing myself. I think I’ll be a stay at home mom. Eli would love it. Mia...I’d probably just annoy until she turns eighteen and moves out, or until she goes crazy. Who knows what would happen first. But it seems worth it.”

“Don’t be silly,” her husband mumbles, brushing his lips to Felicity’s. “Don’t you remember the last time we lived in Ivy Town...god, the idea of staying here, raising a family...it bored you to tears.”

She laughed, “that was before we had kids. Before I knew how challenging being a mother is. Besides, it was trading cooking secrets and the Hoffman’s that bored me to tears,” she explained, making Oliver chuckle. “Trust me, I’d be far from bored taking care of your kids all day.”

“Oh,” Oliver raises an eyebrow, grinning down at her. “They’re  _my_ kids now?”

“When they’re being stubborn, yes,” she smiles back. “All yours.”

“Sure,” Oliver shakes his head, “whatever you say, baby.”

“See,” Felicity presses her mouth to his. “You  _do_ learn.”

He scoffs, kissing her slowly, a smile on his lips that she can still feel. His fingers wind in her hair, taking his time as he pulls her closer. And he kisses her until Mia’s voice interrupts them with a disgusted “gross.”

Oliver pulls back from Felicity, finding his daughter dressed in her coat, hat, and shoes, just waiting for him. He sighs, standing up from the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

“Mia,” Felicity says, “we’ll pick you up before dinner.”

“The Diggles’ invited me to have pizza,” she responds, “is it okay if I eat with them?”

“Yeah,” Felicity nods. “Sure. Call us when you’re ready to come home then.”

“Will do,” Mia opens the door, “see you later, mom. Love you!”

Oliver follows after her, mouthing his own ‘I love you’. Felicity smiles, “love you, too,” she answers them both.

In his absence, Felicity busies herself with cleaning. She gets through the mess from the popcorn fight that broke out halfway through _Frozen_ and is onto the dishes by the time Oliver walks back in. 

“Felicity’s husband has entered the Queen Residence,” her security system warns just as Oliver walks into the kitchen. 

He cocks his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at his wife. “Cute.”

“Hey, I don’t control Archer’s mood,” she shrugs, setting a plate onto the drying rack. “She calls you whatever feels right to her.”

“Mm-hm,” Oliver hums, stepping behind her as she washes the dishes. His arms wrap around her waist, pressing his chest to her back and kissing her neck.

“You’re freezing!” Felicity complains.

Nodding, Oliver buries his nose in her neck at the same time that his fingers slip under her sweater, and Felicity flinches. “It’s cold out there. I thought you’d want to warm me up.”

“Ugh,” Felicity wiggles against his cold hands. “Go sit in front of the fire, you brat,” she teases, although his fingers are already warmer.

He chuckles, nipping at her ear before he steps back, rolls his sleeves up, and begins drying the dishes. “I was thinking chili for dinner,” he offers.

She smiles at her husband, “Will’s favorite.”

Once one mess is taken care of, they start in on their next one, silently moving around each other as she helps him get dinner ready. 

It always impresses her how well they work together. Ever since they met, everything from catching criminals to taking care of their family. It hadn’t always been so effortless, but it has always made sense.  _They’ve_ always made sense.

About an hour later, Eli comes out of his room, rubbing his eyes as he shuffles into the kitchen. “Hey kiddo,” Oliver bends down to pick him up, swaying as Eli cuddles into his father’s chest. “Want to help daddy set the table?”

Eli nods, giving a big yawn that has Felicity melting over his cuteness as she tends to do on a daily basis. 

“Chili?” the toddler asks excitedly, leaning in Oliver’s arms to take a look at the food. “Yum.” Oliver laughs, kissing his head.

With the table set and her boys seated and ready to eat, Felicity can’t help but feel a little bit more whole after the day they’d had. For the first time since they moved to Ivy Town, she’s not looking forward to going to work the next day. “You know,” Oliver says, watching her carefully from across the table, “you  _are_ the boss around there. Taking a little vacation wouldn’t hurt anyone. I’m sure they’d understand.”

Felicity smiles, running her hands through Eli’s hair. “I think that sounds like a great idea,” she mumbles. “Eli, what do you think? Should mommy take a vacation?”

Her son looks up at her, nodding adamantly. He bounces in his seat, “can we go to the beach?”

“Hmm,” she purses her lips, “well, I don’t think so, monkey...it’s a little too cold for that.”

“Not if we go to Aruba,” he points out, his voice rising as he smiles, all sweetness and charm. “Daddy said it’s warm there. No snow.”

Felicity cocks her head to the side, laughing. “Yeah? What else did daddy say about Aruba?”

“That you look very pretty there,” Eli shrugs, taking a spoonful of chili and getting most of it in his mouth. Felicity shakes her head, reminded of the countless time her husband has used their son’s adorable innocence to his advantage. Like the time he’d gotten out of a speeding ticket after Eli rolled down his window with wide, teary eyes and a trembling lip, pleading with the officer not to put his daddy in jail. 

She narrows her eyes at her husband, “we’re talking about a couple of  _days_ at home, not a trip out of the country.”

Oliver grins, raising his hands innocently. “He wanted to hear a bedtime story last night about  _us.”_

“And you chose our honeymoon?” She raises her eyebrows.

“Seemed better than the, uh, bloodier, more violent,  _green_ stories.”

“Right,” Felicity snorts. “Those stories were always more Mia’s favorites. Our sweet boy just likes the fairy tales.”

Oliver winks, his lips twitching with a smile. “Well, we have plenty of those, too.”

She smiles back, her breath catching slightly at the look in his eyes. Like she makes his world turn. Even after all these years.  _That_ look still leaves her a little breathless.

Felicity clears her throat, grateful that she’s decided to take a few days off...because she doesn’t plan on getting very much sleep.

Her phone begins to ring as they’re finishing dinner, and Felicity picks it up easily, seeing Mia’s face light up the screen. “Hey, honey.”

“Hi mom, I’m full of pizza and ready for dad to come chauffeur me home.”

Shaking her head at the sass, Felicity stands from the table. “We’ve been inside all day. I think Eli and I could use some fresh air. We’ll be over in a few.”

“Sounds good, see ya then.” Mia answers before promptly hanging up.

“Mia’s ready?” Oliver asks as they clear the table, with Eli zooming between their legs while they walk from the dining room to the kitchen.

Felicity nods, asking them both, “feel like going for a walk?”

As soon as the dishes are in the sink, Felicity changes into jeans and one of Oliver’s heavier sweatshirts while he gets Eli into his snow pants, knowing full well that the five year old won’t be able to resist the snowbanks between their home and the Diggles’. 

Finally ready, Oliver leads them out of the house. He instinctively reaches for Felicity’s hand as they step into the brisk air. And Eli immediately launches himself from the front steps, straight into the snow-covered yard.

Felicity bursts out laughing as Oliver fishes him out, wiping off his face while the kid breaks into a fit of giggles. “I wish I’d recorded that,” she says between her own amusement.

Oliver huffs, righting Eli on the sidewalk and watching as he waddles ahead of them. “Your children are fearless,” he grumbles.

She squeezes his hand with her mitten-clad fingers. “Oh, they’re  _mine_?”

“When they’re being reckless, yes,” he grins, repeating her words from earlier. “All yours, baby.”

Cuddling into his shoulder, Felicity keeps her eyes on Eli as they walk, taking their time. And she's impressed that even though the street is covered in snow from the storm, their son stops right in front of the Diggles’ house. They’d made sure very early on in the kids’ lives that both of them knew exactly where to go in case of an emergency. And luckily for them, that meant running straight down the street, to the door of their most-trusted friends. 

 Eli is all too excited to ring the doorbell, his arms waving while he waits for one of the Diggles to appear. It never seems to matter who the toddler sees first, he’ll squeal no matter who it is, all smiles for John, Lyla, or their boys. This time, he gets John. 

And Eli gets a real kick out of it when Dig opens the door and acts like he doesn’t see him. “Hello?” Dig asks, looking right over Eli and scratching at his head in feigned confusion. “Huh, that’s strange! Lyla, I thought someone was at the door, but I don’t see anyone.”

Eli wraps his arms around Diggle’s legs. “I’m right here!” He yells, tugging on John's pants until he picks him up.

“Oh,” Dig chuckles, “it’s you! My favorite Queen man.”

“Daddy heard that,” Eli warns, glancing back at them.

John winks, “I know. That's what makes it fun. Your sister’s just getting her things. Come on in.”

They follow Dig inside, catching up on random things about their week, since they made it a point to get together on the weekends. But even if they didn’t make plans for themselves, Mia and Connor usually had them crossing paths anyway.

Lyla gives them a run-down on what she did, _and did not_ , tell their daughter about ARGUS. Oliver and John discuss their plan to bring JJ and Connor to Star City for a baseball game that summer, the tickets to which Oliver plans on gifting the boys with for Christmas. And it doesn’t take long before Mia is not only ready, but dragging her parents out the door by the sleeves of their coats.

After their hurried goodbyes, Mia scoops Eli up into her arms, walking down the driveway while her brother tells her all about the chili he ate for dinner. And bless that patient teenager's heart, she pretends to be surprised and excited by the description of the meal she’s had dozens of times in her life.

When they reach the sidewalk, Mia acts as though she’s going to toss Eli into a snowbank, catching him in her arms at the last minute and making him laugh his head off.

The sounds of his giggling makes them all laugh, too. Felicity lets go of Oliver’s hand, bending down to get a generous handful of snow. As he watches, she forms it into a ball, and lobs it right at Mia’s back.

“Ah!” Their daughter turns slowly, her mouth open as she looks at each of them. Felicity bites her lip, pointing her mitten-hand at Oliver.

“Hey!” He nudges her, shaking his head at Mia. “That was your mother!”

“Oh,” Mia raises her eyebrows, carefully setting Eli back on his feet. “I don’t care who did it,” she continues, the same flicker of mischief in her eyes that Felicity loves to see in Oliver.

Playfulness.

Quickly picking up snow, Mia puts together two snowballs and throws one at each of them.

And then  _war_ breaks loose on their quiet street.

Where Mia has Eli making snowballs for her and Felicity uses Oliver as a shield. Somewhere in the excitement, her husband betrays her, switching sides and joining Mia. And somehow Felicity ends up with her ass in the snow. Or rather, Oliver _drops_ her in the snow. Which she's already planning her revenge for. As he offers his hand to help her up, she yanks him down into the snowbank with her.

By the time they get home, they’re all wet with snow and sporting red noses and smiles. 

It’s exactly the snow day Felicity had wanted. Just the time she needed with her family.

And unfortunately, the warm feeling doesn’t last long enough.

Well, it had lasted for more than fifteen years.

But on that particular night...it’s crushed with the sight of a police cruiser sitting in their driveway. Accompanied by a familiar face.

Mia grabs Felicity’s hand while they walk slowly up the driveway. And it had been so long, Felicity almost doesn’t recognize the woman in uniform standing with her arms crossed. But the deep scar on her neck is unmistakable. As is the scowl in her eyes.

“Felicity Smoak,” Dinah Drake pushes off the cruiser, nodding to the officers she’d brought as back up, “you’re under arrest for illegally intruding on United States databases, unauthorized access to confidential government intelligence, and threats of national security.”

“What the hell is this?” Oliver steps in front of Felicity, holding his hand out to stop Dinah from coming any closer.

“Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law,” Dinah looks away from him, gesturing for the officers at her side to move on Felicity. “You have the right to an attorney before speaking to the police and during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.” 

“Dinah,” Oliver stands taller, his eyes darkening in a way that makes the officers pause. “You’re not arresting my wife.”

“Mom?” Mia’s wide eyes take in the scene. Confusion and fear written all over her face. “What’s happening?”

In the last few months, Felicity has seen so much of Oliver in their daughter. All fierce and sass, high walls, strength, and stubbornness. 

But in that moment, Mia’s hands are shaking. 

She’s the toddler Felicity still remembers having to walk into preschool each morning, sit with her for the first few minutes of her day until she warmed up enough to play with her classmates and let go of Felicity’s hand. 

“It’s okay, honey,” Felicity promises, unwelcome tears springing to her eyes.

“Stop this, Dinah...or so help me god,” Oliver seethes, his voice dropping, an expression flashing in his eyes that Felicity hasn’t witnessed in years. Violence. Fear. A man backed into a corner, ready to fight his way out. “You’ll regret it.”

Ignoring him, Dinah takes a pair of handcuffs out of her jacket, moving to sidestep him, but Oliver blocks her. He glares down at the woman they’d once called a friend. But now...they never would again. “Touch her...” he growls, “and I think you know what I’ll do.”

“Oliver,” Felicity breathes, letting go of Mia’s hand and nudging him. She thrusts Eli into his arms, knowing their son will be enough of an obstacle to stop her husband from foolishly trying to fist-fight law enforcement. “I don’t think you can stop this one.” She swallows her own fear, her own confusion, and forces a watery smile for her family.

Gently, Felicity hugs Mia, whispering a few more promises to her crying daughter that everything will work out. Then she runs her fingers through Eli’s hair, who doesn’t have a clue what’s going on, but his trembling lip tells her that he knows it’s bad. And then she cups her husband’s cheek, pushing onto her toes to kiss his dazed, shocked lips. “I love you,” Felicity tells him. “And you, and you,” she finishes, letting herself touch each of the kids’ cheeks, too.

As she steps back, Oliver blinks, snapping out of it. “Take me,” he strains, his voice pained and breathless. He steps towards Felicity as Dinah does the same, halting when his wife shakes her head. “Take me instead.”

“Oliver,” Felicity sighs, lifting her chin. She meets her husband’s gaze. “It’s not that simple.”

“No, Felicity. If anything is simple, it’s this.”

Mustering all the courage she can, Felicity slowly brings her hands behind her back, letting Dinah put the handcuffs on her wrists. “You can’t,” she answers. “It doesn’t work that way.” Felicity instantly wishes that her hands weren’t cuffed so she could touch him. Lay her palm over his cheek again, knowing how much it soothes his anxious mind. He looks like he needs it. “Don’t worry. I promise that everything will be okay. You need to let me go, Oliver. Stay here. Call Dig. Take care of Mia and Eli.”

He clenches his jaw, his eyes trained on Dinah as they change, turning almost black with rage. She can see how every muscle in his body wants him to fight. Every instinct inside of him is screaming to punch his way out of this. But he also has his son in his arms, and he knows better now. He knows that it’s not a logical solution anyway.

Oliver’s eyes shift down to Felicity, and they’re wild as he shakes his head. “I will never let you go.”

Dinah nudges her, and Felicity keeps her eyes on her family until she has to duck her head, getting into the back of a police cruiser that takes her away from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me :')


	34. "So, ‘stay away’ is what you’re saying”

**Anonymous: 8 & 21 please :)**

 

****_“Yo, who was the hottie….so, ‘stay away’ is what you’re saying.”_

* * *

 

It started innocently enough.

His crush on Felicity Smoak was nothing more than his usual antics. How could he  _not_ notice the pair of tan legs and high heels roaming around his company? That blonde ponytail that swayed with her hips when she walked. 

And her red lips? He’d have to be  _dead_ not to admire those.

Appreciating the hotness of Felicity Smoak was one thing. She was hired to work in the IT department a few months ago. He knew, because he’d checked. And he also knew that steering clear of her was the best idea.

The last thing he needed was a scandal about him getting caught with some blonde employee. A gorgeous blonde employee, but still.

That’s what he’d told himself for weeks…ever since the day he’d laid eyes on the woman. But his resolve faded rather rather quickly.

If his assistant, Jenna, hadn’t forgotten her password and locked herself out of her computer one day, he wouldn’t even have this problem. Felicity never would have been called up to his office. She never would have walked in with her curves and her lips and her ponytail. He may have never known of her wonderful existence in the first place. Just gone on living his ignorant and not as bright life without knowing her.

But that wasn’t what happened.

Oliver had tried to tell himself it wasn’t a problem that he was attracted to her. Then that he liked her. He tried not to look for that ponytail every time he stepped into the lobby of Queen Consolidated or walked down the hall for a meeting.

Unsurprisingly, his plan had been an epic fail. The moment Felicity Smoak had opened her mouth in his presence, he’d been powerless to stop it.

And he didn’t want to.

That probably surprised him more than anything.

For once, he didn’t want to run away from the challenge of a woman like her. He wanted to impress her. So, he’d gone out of his way to keep seeing her. Bringing his laptop downstairs and asking her to help him with things that he already knew how to do. She knew that he knew, but she didn’t stop him. Calling her up to his office one day to help Jenna with her phone even though he had already known what the problem was. Since he’d been the one to unplug the cord and call Felicity for help… They’d all laughed about that one, assuming it must’ve come unplugged when the custodial staff was vacuuming the night before. 

And he’d used the opportunity to ask Felicity out to lunch for the first time.

Every minute he spent with her, Oliver felt like he knew her just a little bit better. Every day, they grew closer.

She was different, and the way he was drawn to her was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. His past relationships were a mess of drama, lies, and poor decisions. Felicity was the first person that had ever made him feel ashamed by it, though.

It wasn’t anything that she’d said or done. Of course not…she would never do that. She was Felicity, after all, and Felicity was far too sweet to embarrass anyone.

It was just that he didn’t  _want_ to tell her what an asshole he’d been. Because he wanted to be better. He wanted her to see him differently. For her, he wanted to be a man, not the immature, hurtful idiot that his exes could write novels about.

In hindsight, telling her all of that last night, rattling it all off and catching her off guard with it, had not been the best move.

But he’d done it. He’d walked her to her car the night before, and he’d thrown it all out there. The words fell from his lips easily, unplanned and unwarranted. It had surprised both of them because words were  _not_ his strong suit. The things he’d said though; that she’d become one of the most important people to him, that he cared about her and loved spending time with her, that he had  _feelings_ for her…it was all true.

Oliver didn’t regret saying any of it, but he  _did_ regret the way he’d gone about it. Because once he’d finally stopped babbling, once she’d heard all of it, her eyes had been wide as saucers. He’d held his breath as they’d reached her car, and Felicity had stared up at him. Confused and speechless. And then she’d mumbled something about needing to get home, and gotten into her car, giving him a quick wave and a halfhearted smile before she’d sped off.

Rejection wasn’t really something he was familiar with. Not like that, at least. Despite popular opinion, there  _were_ women out there who hadn’t been interested in him. He’d endured his own, slightly less than average, amount of strikeouts. But it was never a big deal. If the girl he’d been schmoozing decided not to go home with him, he’d never had an issue brushing it off and setting his sights on someone else. He didn’t go home alone unless he wanted to.

Yet the idea of meaningless sex to take his mind off of Felicity was completely unappealing. And Oliver hated that he was finally realizing why that was.

His phone began to ring where it sat on his desk in front of him, and Oliver glanced away from the window to look at it. With a sigh, he flipped his phone over, running his hand through his hair and letting it vibrate.

“Dude!”

Oliver’s head snapped up to the door, and he gaped at his best friend, who stared back at him with shock and utter betrayal.

_Busted_.

Tommy shook his head, mock-anger all over his face as he pulled his own phone away from his ear, dropping it into his pocket. Then he raised his eyebrows, lifting a brown paper bag over his head. “I figured I would be a good friend and bring you something from Raisa’s. I thought you must be on your death bed since you didn’t want to come out last night. Kelly and Kayla send their best, by the way. I mean, who turns down  _twins_? I did tell you they were twins when I called, right? Hot twins. You missed all the fun.”

Oliver sighed, nodding as his friend came into his office and set the bag on his desk. “Yes, you mentioned it…”

“And now you’re ignoring my call. What’s wrong?”

“I’m working,” he huffed, rolling his eyes.

Tommy gave him a look that screamed of disbelief, “you’re brooding. Come on.”

“I don’t brood,” Oliver grumbled back.

That earned him a spirited laugh. “Uh huh,” Tommy continued to chuckle, “sure you don’t. If brooding was an Olympic sport, you’d be winning the gold, my man.”

Ignoring him, Oliver peeked into the bag he brought, smelling the delicious blueberry muffin that reminded him of growing up at Raisa’s family restaurant, eating those muffins until he and Tommy were sick. He reached in to take it, his stomach growling, but Tommy smacked his hand. “Eh! Not until you share with the class who pissed in your cheerios this morning.”

“Gross, Tommy.”

“That’s not an answer,” his friend sang, picking up the bag and shaking it above Oliver’s head as if he was a dog that needed to complete a trick before he could get his treat. Usually, Tommy’s behavior didn’t bother Oliver. He had always been a little shit, but today was one of those days where it was getting on Oliver’s nerves.

“Whatever,” Oliver waved him off, “just get out of here.”

Tommy paused, frowning as he put the muffin back on the desk. “You’re actually upset…” he realized, and Oliver stared at him for a moment, silently giving him a ‘no duh’ look. “All right then,” Tommy nodded, crossing his arms. “Tell me what the hell happened. Seriously, Oliver. I’m listening.”

Pressing his fingers to his forehead, Oliver took a moment to relax, letting his anger dissolve before he looked at Tommy again. But he just sighed, shaking his head in response.

Telling Felicity all about his feelings had been a train wreck he couldn’t stop once it started. It was embarrassing enough to go through it the first time. Reliving  _that_ wasn’t on his agenda for the day. Besides, he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t find the words to tell Tommy, anyway.

“Is your dad being an asshole again?” His best friend frowned. Oliver rolled his eyes, scoffing, because when  _wasn’t_ his dad being an asshole? “Is it Thea, or…?”

Oliver shook his head, clearing his throat. “No, no, nothing like that.” He let out another deep breath. “It’s just this girl—”

Oliver froze when he finally glanced up again and saw the swing of blonde hair he’d recognize anywhere at this point. She was standing in front of Jenna, smiling and chatting like they always did.

And like every day before, his assistant waved Felicity right in.

_Shit_. 

He should’ve told Jenna this morning that he didn’t have time to see anyone today.

Well, it wasn’t like he expected to hear from Felicity anytime soon. Or ever again. With the way she’d run away from him last night, he figured she’d be avoiding his office like the plague until she either found a better job or he died of embarrassment and she did’t have to face him.

All he could do was blink when Felicity walked towards the glass, smiling at him as if their conversation the night before never happened. She opened the door, letting herself in. And her eyes flickered to Tommy. “Oh,” Felicity noticed him as she stepped into the room, giving him a shy little wave.

Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver saw the way Tommy cocked his head to the side, his eyes trailing down Felicity’s body. It only added more tension to the room, sparking a flash of jealousy in Oliver’s chest that had never caught fire for any woman before.

“Well…hello there,” Tommy finally greeted her once he was done ogling.

Oliver cleared his throat, interrupting before Felicity could answer, or rather before Tommy could try to turn on any of his annoying charm. Not that Felicity would fall for it for even one second.

“What can I do for you, Miss Smoak?” Oliver asked, his voice quiet but professional…at least he hoped so.

Felicity’s eyes bounced between them, clearly picking up on some kind of weird vibe. “I just, uh, thought we should talk. About last night?”

“Oooh,” Tommy’s eyebrows waggled, and then it was his eyes bouncing between Oliver and Felicity. “What happened last night?”

Oliver’s heart swelled for a moment; the optimistic, hopeful side of him wondering if she’d come to say that she felt the same things for him that he felt for her. Maybe she’d thought about it all night like he had, and she’d realized how great they could be together.

Still looking at Felicity, not willing to break the eye contact if she wasn’t, he nodded. “Tommy, could you give us a moment, please?”

Taking the hint, Tommy mumbled a disappointed response, leaving his office and closing the door behind him. Once they were alone, Felicity strode towards his desk, and Oliver leaned back, finally peeling his eyes off of hers. Although his gaze didn’t go far, slipping down her body, taking her in.

Her dress hugged her hips perfectly, tight around her tan, shapely legs. But not too short, no matter what that witch Isabel Rochev said.

Felicity stopped in front of his desk, her fingers landing on the surface, and Oliver brought his eyes up to her face. By now, he knew that she could read him pretty well. So unlike all the days before, Oliver didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t been checking her out. If he didn’t ignore the fact that he was attracted to her, then she couldn’t ignore it anymore either.

“What do we need to discuss, Felicity?” He mumbled, enjoying the way her name rolled off his tongue. God only knew how much longer he’d be able to say it, how much longer she’d be letting him speak to her. As Felicity stared down at him, her pink tongue darted out to swipe over her bright red lips.

Oliver watched brazenly. No more hiding. The sexual tension had always been there between them. At least as far as he could tell.

After he’d bring her a coffee and she’d crinkle her nose with appreciation in her eyes. Or she’d do that adorable snort-laugh and he couldn’t help but feel a little jolt of arousal when he heard it. Or when she’d babble and he’d just sit and admire her brain until she eventually stopped herself.

Or like now, when she shivered because she could definitely understand the look in his eyes. The way he felt as he watched her lick her lips.

“I’m quitting,” Felicity blurted, her back straightening as she took a step back. 

He froze, taken off guard while she backed up towards the door a few more steps. Her hands combed through her hair, flailing around as she started to babble. 

And he sat with his hands gripping his desk, staring at her with his heart in his throat while she explained. Or tried to explain. Felicity spoke faster than usual, much too fast for him to catch everything she was saying. But he definitely didn’t miss it when she mentioned a job Curtis Holt had offered her months ago, and she ‘just felt like now was the right time.’

“Wait,” Oliver finally snapped out of it as Felicity reached the door, her arm reaching behind her to escape. “Felicity, stop—”

She opened the door as he rounded his desk, and Oliver glanced over her shoulder, looking at Jenna and Tommy. Their eyes darted away, pretending they weren’t watching. “I have to get back downstairs,” Felicity breathed. Running from him. Again. 

This time, he chased her, right out of his office, not caring that Jenna and Tommy made a very engaged audience.

“We need to talk about this,” he practically growled, his eyes hot on Felicity. “Don’t think you’re leaving me so easily, Miss Smoak.” 

She swallowed, and he couldn’t help but notice the blush that rose over her neck and up to her cheeks.

Did she… _like that?_

“What do you want, Felicity?” Oliver cocked his head to the side, intrigued that his intensity seemed to be getting her all flustered. He narrowed his eyes, “a raise? A promotion? What would it take?” He asked, ignoring the fact that Tommy and Jenna were eavesdropping, not even pretending they weren’t anymore. Their eyes darted between him and Felicity, but Oliver kept his focus steady on her. “Is this because of yesterday?”

Felicity’s eyes softened as she stared back at him, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have bombarded you with it like this,” she whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she glanced at their audience. Then her shoulders straightened and she met his eyes again. “We can discuss it later, okay?”

Without waiting for his response, Felicity turned on her heel, hurrying by Tommy and Jenna.

“Yo,” Tommy let out a long whistle, “who was the hottie….” he pulled his gaze away from Felicity’s ass just as Oliver glared at him. Narrowing his eyes, Oliver let his anger hold the warning he wanted Tommy to hear.  _Shut up, because I’ll kick your ass if you finish that sentence._  Tommy held his hands up in surrender, reading the message loud and clear. “So, ‘stay away’ is what you’re saying.”

Rolling his eyes, Oliver walked out of the office too, following Felicity. Chasing after her again. He didn’t do  _chasing_. And Tommy knew that better than anyone. His friend put his hand on his shoulder as Oliver blew by him, his eyebrows furrowing, “where you going?”

“I need to talk to her,” Oliver mumbled back, brushing off his hand.

“She’s the girl you were going to tell me about, huh? Before she walked in?” Knowing that Jenna was a gossip, and hanging on every word of this little show, he didn’t answer. Instead, he went to catch Felicity. “That’s fine!” Tommy yelled after him, “I’m sure Jenna here has plenty of knowledge to share with me!”

Oliver blew him off, jogging down the hall when he noticed Felicity’s ponytail waiting for the elevator. He brushed by a few people, reaching her before the doors opened. “Oliver,” she let out a sharp breath, “I told you we can talk later.”

“We can talk now, too…” he answered lowly, putting his hand on her elbow and guiding her away.

She let him, not arguing or even questioning him as he led her down the hallway. Glancing in each direction and satisfied no one was watching them, Oliver pushed open a door to a supply closet and pulled her inside with him.

“What are we—” Felicity gasped as he reached for the light, flicking it on to reveal a well-organized storage room. Full of dusty, boring boxes of old cases from the early days of QC.

“Are you really leaving, Felicity? Or just thinking about it?” He asked directly.

Biting her lip again, Felicity crossed her arms. “Thinking about it…”

He hummed, taking a step closer. “Do you like working here?”

“Yes.”

He took another step.

“Do you want to work for Mr. Holt?”

She sighed, “I…kind of. I want to have my  _own_ company someday. The IT desk isn’t going to get me there…even if I love it here.” Her words made him pause as he absorbed them. But then her next ones had him taking another step. “Even if I love spending time with you every day.”

“Is all of this because of what I said last night?” He whispered, “would you even be doing this if I would’ve just kept my mouth shut?”

Felicity looked up at him, her eyes speaking to him in words that her mouth wouldn’t. “No…”

“Hmm,” he dwindled yet another foot between them, reaching out to run his hands down her arms, experimentally. He still wasn’t sure what to think or how she felt. As he touched her, Felicity’s breath hitched in her throat, and he bit back a smile. He affected her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. “And…do you wish I never said those things to you?”

Her eyes slipped shut, a shallow breath escaping her lips. “No, I don’t wish that. I’m happy you said all of it,” she whispered. “I feel the same way, Oliver. I like you too… Of course I do.”

“I see,” Oliver said, keeping his voice neutral. He closed the last bit of space between them, putting them toe to toe. “Well,” Oliver mumbled, his eyes scanning over her face as she held her breath. “The way I look at it…you have two choices here, Felicity. But before you decide anything, you need to take into account that I am willing to have you any way I can. It’s  _you_ I care about the most. And I know you…so long as you want me in your life, then I don’t want you to ever be afraid of losing me.”

“Oliver…” her eyes slowly opened, and she blinked up at him, analyzing him for a moment.

He let her.

“I meant every word I said to you,” Oliver whispered. “So, you can choose to leave Queen Consolidated. You can decide that any day. Whenever you’re ready to take that step, myself and this company will support you, no matter what. And I’ll be here for you. Because you, Felicity Smoak, are one of my favorite people in this world. The only thing I care about is that I get to continue seeing you. Preferably every day, because at this point I think I’d miss you too much if I didn’t,” he grinned, and she chuckled.

“And…” Felicity took a deep breath, her eyes on his. “What’s the other option?”

Oliver smiled, reaching out to take one of her hands. He slowly slid his fingers through hers, twining them together. “You can stay. As long as it’s what  _you_ want. And you can pull me into supply closets anytime you want,” he joked. Although he wasn’t actually joking. Felicity and dimly lit closets sounded perfect to him.

She released a sharp breath, letting go of his hand and quickly grabbing his face. Before Oliver had a chance to catch up, her lips were on his, fiery and passionate. He groaned, his fingers digging into her hips to pull her closer. As he did, Felicity whimpered, opening her mouth for him.

Swiping his tongue against hers, Oliver gave in to how good it felt. The amazing way she tasted. How long had he spent wanting to kiss her? How many times had he daydreamed about her lips?

And now they were on him, sucking his top lip, her teeth grazing… _whew_. It was perfect.

Eventually they pulled apart. After she’d successfully shared her lipstick with his mouth, cheeks, and neck…and he’d successfully taken her hair down, his fingers diving into her locks greedily while he listened to her moan. After his tie was loose and a few buttons by his collar came undone. After he’d picked her up, hoisted her against the wall, and knocked a few boxes down in their haste. Eventually, reluctantly, they both seemed to realize where they were, and they stopped.

But Oliver didn’t go a single minute the rest of the day without thinking about that kiss. Or the sound of Felicity’s giggle when they finally pulled apart and she tried to help him wipe lipstick off his mouth.

He couldn’t get the whole moment they shared in that closet off of his mind until two nights later, when they had their first date. And their next moment.

It was just as perfect.


	35. "You just outed my secret identity to a supervillain!”

icannotbelieveiamhere said: #6 please

 

_“Thank you, Felicity, you just outed my secret identity to a supervillain!”_

* * *

When Felicity wakes, the first thing she feels is Oliver’s arms around her, his chest pressed tightly to her back and his mouth buried in her hair. She blinks her eyes open, adjusting to the bright sunlight shining through the curtain and right in her eye.

“Too warm,” she complains, feeling the hot sun on her face and the even hotter skin of her husband at her back. 

All she gets is a grunt in return. And his hand tightening on her chest. Felicity glances down and, yes, he’s definitely cupping one of her breasts in his sleep.

Felicity scoffs, rolling her eyes and nudging his hand away. 

But Oliver just twines his fingers in hers, letting out another tired sigh. Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Felicity tosses her foot back, aiming to gently kick him in the calf until he releases her from the sweltering fortress. But her toes nudge something else. And that something starts to giggle. 

The loud burst of laughter surprises her at first, and wakes up Oliver. As Felicity turns her head to look at her husband, his eyes taking her in, they share a knowing glance. At their feet, the blanket is protruding with a familiar bump, and the laughter becomes muffled.

With her eyes still on Oliver’s, Felicity smiles, seeing a hint of mischief cross his face. “Honey,” she says slowly, “did you hear something?”

Oliver grins back, on the same page. “It sounded a lot like Mia..." he answers, "but that can’t be right. She’s sleeping in her bed.”

In response, more giggles greet them from the bundle, making both of their smiles tick up a notch. “It’s not Mia, daddy,” their daughter whispers, followed by a cute little gasp. “I mean—!” 

Her voice drops, an attempt at menacing with her next words. “It’s not Mia, kid.”

Felicity bursts out laughing while Oliver blinks. He watches his wife, his eyes questioning. But Felicity can’t stop laughing, praising her three year old’s shot at an Australian accent between her chuckles.

“The end is near...” Mia continues from under the blanket, her voice holding all the dramatic flare of her personality. “But maybe I’ll be merciful enough to let you live and see your city burn!”

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, Oliver gapes at Felicity. “Is that...is she—” then he mouths the name, “Slade?”

Falling into a fit of giggles again, Felicity nods. “She wanted a Green Arrow bedtime story last night.”

Oliver huffs, giving Felicity a look that says he doesn’t approve. “You couldn’t think of anything a little less... _traumatic_ than Deathstroke?”

Rolling her eyes, Felicity sits up in their bed and leans over to poke at the pile of blankets next to Oliver’s foot. Mia immediately breaks out into high-pitched squeals and giggles. “I obviously left out the gory details!” Felicity explains, glancing at him over her shoulder.

As Oliver sits up too, Mia throws the blanket over her head, revealing a state of static-filled, wild hair. And a sock that she’d wrapped around her head, covering just one eye. Apparently her Slade impersonation goes right down to the eye-patch.

This time, Oliver can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at Mia. “You are way too silly.”

“Not silly,” Mia frowns, “I’m a supervision.”

Felicity snorts, “I think you mean supervillain.”

“That’s what I said, mommy,” Mia nods once, scrambling up to stand over them on the bed. “Supervillain!” She shouts, jumping down more gracefully than any three year old had a right to be. Felicity sighs as Mia takes off running out of their room, slumping against Oliver while they listen to the patter Mia’s feet darting all around the house.

“That coordination and energy in the morning...” Felicity rests her chin on his shoulder, glancing up at him. “All your fault.”

He tilts his head down to meet her gaze, an eyebrow quirking as he answers, “my energy in the morning is not something you’ve ever complained about before...”

“Yeah, well,” she huffed, “maybe a little less of that energy and we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“If by situation you mean our daughter...then I can only take credit for the energy. She’s your mini-me.”

Felicity grins, always liking those words. “I know,” she scrunches her nose at him, and Oliver leans down to kiss her, smiling as their lips touch.

Although she feels the kiss all the way down to her toes, just like every one before it, Felicity presses her lips against his once more, hearing a sweet groan escaping him. “Good morning,” she whispers.

Oliver smiles as he opens his eyes, his nose rubbing against hers. “Good morning.”

“Mornin’ my march memesis!” Mia hollers from the doorway, making them chuckle again.

“Hey,” Oliver raises his eyebrows at their daughter. “You know Green Arrow totally beat Deathstroke, right?”

Mia shuffles her feet, looking a little unsure as she adjusts the sock over her eye. “Locked me on Lian Yu!” She impersonates Slade again, pointing at Oliver. “You’ll never defeat me again!”

“You think so?” Oliver asks, climbing out of bed. All he has to do is take one step towards the toddler, and Mia is screaming and running away.

Laughing, Felicity follows, not even bothering to try to keep up as Oliver chases Mia down the hall. 

Instead she heads downstairs to start breakfast, at peace with the sounds of the two of them stomping and playing above her. 

Eventually they take their battle to the first floor, making a mess of the couch cushions and Mia's toys. And then they overtake the kitchen, and Felicity suddenly has a few more obstacles while she cooks. Especially when Mia tries to hide behind her legs from Oliver’s threats to tickle her. 

Glancing down at the girl, Felicity shuffles to the sink, Mia clung to her legs and squealing. “Hey, baby,” she runs her hand over her daughter’s head. “Can you please let go of me? It’s hard to make pancakes with you doing that.”

“Help!” Mia screeches, burying her face in Felicity’s thigh when Oliver reaches for her again. “Mommy, save me!”

“Mommy was definitely on Team Arrow,” Oliver points out. "She can't help you!" Mia giggles, hiding from him again. “Come on, Wilson, let’s get out of her hair. Mommy also needs all the focus she can get when she’s in the kitchen...unless you want burnt pancakes for breakfast.”

“Oliver Queen!” Felicity whines at his teasing, picking up a blueberry off the counter just to throw it at him. “You better watch yourself!”

Of course, he catches it before it can hit him, his stupid reflexes sharp as ever. Her husband winks at her, tossing the blueberry into his mouth.

“Thank you, Felicity,” he glances down at Mia pointedly, “you just outed my secret identity to a supervillain!” 

Mia yells, coming out of her hiding place and barreling towards Oliver as if she's leading a battle charge. And Oliver laughs, leaning down in preparation while she runs full force towards him.

He catches her just as easily, swooping her up into his arms. And just like that, they’re off again.


End file.
